See Us in Hell
Although, clearly, it is not a good idea to Trifle
With the Etiquette Grrls, foolhardy persons, things, and even entities
persist in doing so. The Etiquette Grrls remind the following Grievous
Offenders that we will, in fact, See Them In Hell:
exactly, does FRANCE have better trains than we do? And why did
Amtrak think hiring Mike Dukakis as a Spokesman would be a Good
To date, the EGs have only met THREE Harvard graduates whose egos
could fit in the same room with them and who could hold a decent
conversation. And the EGs have met a heck of a lot of Harvard alumni...
Goat Cheese, especially the runny kind which looks
WAY too much like mucus. In fact, anything that resembles mucus
can see the Etiquette Grrls in hell.
Would a GOOD college let in the likes of Kellie Martin, Claire Danes,
and Jennifer Beals? Plus, it's in New Haven, where people get shot.
Anyone touted as "the next Grace Kelly."
There IS no next Grace Kelly; nor is there "this season's Audrey
Hepburn" or "the nouvelle Kate Hepburn." The EGs
are particularly offended whenever Gwyneth Paltrow is the woman
Perhaps the lowest circle of Hell, in a Dantean sense.
Pseudo-martinis. Unless it contains gin, vermouth,
and a Big Damn Olive, and ONLY gin, vermouth, and a Big Damn Olive,
it is NOT a martini.
"Athletic Scholarships." The last time
the EGs checked, getting an 800 on your SAT does not a scholar make.
If you earn a Real Scholarship for Being a Scholar, and then Play
Sports, more power to you, but please, let's not get Intelligence
and Athletic Ability mixed up here.
People who tell the EGs to "Smile!"
The EGs are, by nature, rather morose and contemplative, as befits
all creative, intellectual types. The EGs are not about to begin
running around grinning maniacally just because some Gas Station
Attendant suggested to.
The idiot who drives a red Ferrari through the
peaceful streets of Fairfield, Connecticut, nearly running down
Small Children, the Elderly, and Cute Lined-Up Ducks.
Sandals in the winter, and/or sandals worn with
Cubicles instead of Real Offices. The EGs should
NOT have to hear every conversation going on within 20 feet of their
desks, smell Other People's Smelly Food, etc. The EGs want, nay,
deserve a private office with a door.
Cargo Pants which actually contain Cargo, as seen
recently in the Miami Airport.
treated as a fashion accessory.
Professional Wrestling, in any way, shape, or
Any polo shirt with an embroidered logo other
than the wee Lacoste beastie (GRRR!), the Lilly palm tree, or perhaps
the Ralph Lauren polo player (although the EGs think the latter
is pushing it).
Ostentatious tombstones. If you're important enough
to merit a statue, someone else should erect it for you, and preferably
NOT over Your Grave.
IKEA. The EGs aren't fond of Swedish Modern, especially
Swedish Modern you have to go to Elizabeth, New Jersey to buy, then
put together yourself.
Martha Stewart (who used to be, coincidentally,
sort of a neighbor of one of the EGs. Trust us, Martha, you ought
to be grateful EGL moved, as Westport isn't big enough for both
Those stickers that go on one's windshield that
reiterate what car one is driving. Should you be proud to be driving
a Datsun? No.
Ricky Martin/ Enrique Iglesias/ Jennifer Lopez/
Marc Anthony/ the Mambo Number Five guy, etc. Singing in Spanish
doesn't change the fact that this is run-of-the-mill Top 40 crap.
(If the EGs released a Pop Album in French, would that make it Good?
Bill Gates. See entry for "Harvard,"
above. Nevermind that he didn't graduate.
Marshmallows, especially the minuscule ones in
hot chocolate mix. If the EGs wanted small bites of pumice floating
around in their beverages, they would collect some the next time
they find themselves in the Ring of Fire.
The expression, "It don't matter."
When saltines are allowed to run around in foods
where they obviously don't belong, i.e., omelets, cakes, puddings,
macaroni and cheese, atop any sort of vegetable side dish, etc.
Saltines are meant to be topped by Good Cheese, and that's it.
When the EGs and Friends fancy a Good, Old-Fashioned
Snowball Fight, but the snow is of a fine, fluffy, powdery consistency,
and completely useless as ammo.
SUVs. If you fancy driving a Jeep, join the Army,
where they are plentiful.
American Idol. Does the world need another
Annoying Pop Star? Hardly.
Graduates of Certain Ivy League Schools who do
not realize that there is a Long-Standing Tradition of Mocking les
autres Ivies when one is a Graduate of, say, Princeton.
Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, et al., for
convincing Little Girls that it is Perfectly Acceptable to Run About
Looking Like a Wee Streetwalker. (And who are Utterly Devoid of
Any Sort of Musical Talent, to boot.)
Upstairs Neighbors who Stomp. And/or hold Karaoke
Newark International Airport. As if JFK and LaGuardia
aren't hellish enough.
The fact that all of the Street Signs in Boston
are, apparently, AWOL.
Downloadable cell 'phone ringer sounds. Why, there
weren't enough Annoying Tinny Noises pre-programmed into the device,
so you need to get more?
Scary Long Nails. Especially avec "Nail Art."
If you find yourself listed above, the Etiquette
Grrls suggest that you make haste to make reparations. Notes of
apology may be e-mailed to the Etiquette Grrls at firstname.lastname@example.org.