Supercilious Stupidity

It’s not a good idea to act like a dolt toward workers who are in your home to perform a service. Treating them well equals better service. Besides, they know where you live. Stupers (short, once again, for abysmally stupid persons) haven’t yet learned this.

I use an excellent handyman, Ed, who’s honest, dependable and handy to the tenth degree. A retired fire officer, Ed does his work cheerfully and efficiently.

One day, a sullen, agitated Ed, muttering maledictions under his breath, came over to fix a leaky faucet. As he reached beneath the sink, I asked if something was wrong. Ed didn’t look at me when I asked this. He fixed his gaze on a ten-inch pipe wrench resting on the counter. He glared at it is such a significant way, it was clear he wasn’t regarding it as a master tool for tightening any nuts or bolts. Violence was on his mind.

He finally broke his gaze and looked up at me. Then he poured out his story:

“I had a job at the Nolan’s place.”

(Note to my dear readers: Mr. Nolan is a thirty-seven-year-old TV actor; not exactly a first rate talent in my humble opinion, but one who didn’t abandon his hit medical series after everyone else did and so garnered a name for himself and a hefty salary).

“The only ones at home were Mrs. Nolan and a couple of maids. I was there to put together a crib. Mrs. Nolan was watching me work. She didn’t say a word. Then I asked her some questions, like where she wanted me to put the crib. She left the room. The next thing I know a maid comes in with the phone and hands it to me. Mrs. Nolan’s assistant from LA was on the other end; she said she’d answer my questions. She told me to put the crib next to the wall adjoining the bath. Then I asked if she wanted me to install the optional drawer on the side of the crib. The assistant placed me on hold and called Mrs. Nolan. This went back and forth for the next ten minutes. Mrs. Nolan wouldn’t talk to me! I had to talk to her assistant a hundred miles away while she sat in the next room. I could hear her talking on the phone to the assistant. Geeeez! Why couldn’t she just talk to me?”

The Nolans called on Ed again, but Ed did not return. He avoided their place the way the discerning bull avoids the china shop after that ruinous first time.

I live in a small town where word spreads like ants in the kitchen after a grain of sugar hits the floor. Ed is the number one handyman in these parts. A run-in with Ed means having to find a guy from a neighboring town, thirty miles away. And no one there is as handy as Ed. Stupidity does not realize this.

“Did Mrs. N look all puffed up to you?” I asked this because when I saw her grocery shopping the week before, she did appear a bit full of herself.

Ed scratched his head and replied, “Come to think of it, she did look kinda bloated.”

Mrs. Nolan’s self-importance and supercilious air came from her status of being married to a TV actor, who quite frankly, is not exactly a household name. I had him pointed out to me once in the local market by my sister who is a fanatic follower of anything even remotely celebrity related.

Self-importance thrills the meager mind making it feel…well, important, without reason. In reality, self-importance is dull, exceptionally dull. It creates a kind of void where gratitude and the ability to appreciate value in the work of others should be. It promotes the growth of stupidity even for those who may not have been stupers before. Without gratitude, happiness is fleeting and as hard to grasp as water.

Gratitude is the fruit of great cultivation; you do not find it among gross people.” ~ Samuel Johnson

I might add that you don’t find it among stupers either.



5 Responses to “Supercilious Stupidity”

  1. Mary says:

    How could you not laugh when you heard the “…she did look kinda bloated.” line? Too cute. And, I am very grateful for your enlightening post.

  2. Reilly says:

    The only thing worse than a prima donna actor is the spouse of an actor acting like a prima donna! Good for the handyman for not going back!

  3. Julianne says:

    Aaahhh… so refreshing to return to the blogosphere and the rantings of Keli.

    A: I think it is absurd to hire a handyman to put together a crib (I am, however, married to a handyman so this is very easy for me to say).

    B: Why the heck does the wife of an actor need an assistant? I’m assuming that she is not gainfully employed.

  4. M.C. says:

    I agree with Julianne. Why in the world does an actor’s wife need an assistant? Oh yeah, to feel self-important!

  5. Suzie says:

    Sounds like a stuper who definitely needs an assistant to get on in life. Otherwise, how else can she
    show off?

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