There is a Turd in the Punch Bowl

On occasion I have been known to watch “South Park”. I love the way they take a current event and then “cross the line” with it. It can be a beautiful thing when the creators are on their game. One episode reminded me of when I first met my co-writer.

The overall theme of the episode revolved around someone not going along with an “agenda”. When this happened the phrase “There is a Turd in the Punch Bowl” was uttered and the person was removed. It was code for we have a “free thinker” and someone who isn’t drinking the “Punch” (or kool-aid if you like). The beauty of this is that my co-writer chose the name Turd Furgeson. Ohh, the cosmic irony.

By now you should know that Turd Furgeson didn’t go along with the Mortgage Devil’s agenda at all. She hadn’t been drinking his Punch in quite awhile. It became a source of displeasure for him and his cohort…who I would like to introduce now. This woman shall be called Cruella Deville from this point forward. She is a middle aged woman who has the most fake laugh…bordering on cackle…that I have ever heard. Her husband is a successful Doctor in the area..so she doesn't need the money. Why does she work in the mortgage industry?....because she is Cruella and she needs to steal puppies to make fur coats?...or to take advantage of mortgage customers to finance her wool sweater and wool skirt habit? I am not sure. She chain smoked cigarettes all day and ran around the office between smoke breaks totally freaking out yelling “I am so SCREWED”…all…day…long. She never met a loan that wasn’t a total crisis. She created more drama than a Broadway production on a daily basis. She would run around screaming, cursing, throwing her hands up…. and then suddenly…the phone would ring. At a quick snap she would transform the rage into a sugary sweet demeanor. It was sickening to watch. It was better not to have eaten any greasy food that could easily come up when you were in her presence. The probability that I would vomit after watching this show was very high.

I recall one evening I am talking to one of the Mortgage Devil’s Minion’s…one that I actually like a little….and here comes Cruella. She is in full on freak out mode:

Cruella: “A. Hole…darling…have you heard that Turd Furgeson is down at the Beach office stealing loans from all of us”.

Me: “uhhh…what?”

Cruella: “Oh yeah, she is down there picking up all of the phones call that could be for any of us…and she is taking the loan applications all for herself”.

Me: “hmmm…Really?”

Cruella: “Yes, the Mortgage Devil is pissed. He said that he explained to her she had to find out who the Loan Officer was that handled the loan and then pass it to them. But she isn’t doing that. He said that wasn’t the deal.”

Me: “Well, I planned to make some stops at the Beach at the end of the week and stop in that office. I guess I will get to meet her.”

Cruella: “Well you need to sit and there and listen to what she is doing and tell the Mortgage Devil. He needs proof. Better yet, tell me and I will tell the Mortgage Devil”.

Me: “Why would I do that? I am not her boss.”

Cruella: “Jesus Christ, don’t you see that she is ripping all us off??!!”

Me: “ I will give you a full report. Happy?”

Apparently, Turd wasn’t going along with the Mortgage Devil’s and Cruella Deville’s plan. So, there was a Turd in the Punch Bowl and I was supposed to help flush it? Not my style. I had no intention of being a spy or tattle-tailing. I just needed a break from Gilligan’s Island and Cruella Deville’s stupid daily shit. I knew none of my clients were being stolen by Turd because I didn’t give out the number to that office to ANYONE. I don’t think I even knew the number for that office. I didn’t even want people calling ANY office for fear the call would be directed elsewhere by the Ever-clear Pickled Bitchy Receptionist. Everyone had my cell phone number and that is how everyone reached me.

I was there for some peace and quiet and to relax a little without the constant stream of people “buzzing” my Island like Crop Dusters. I pull into the parking lot and see what I believe is the Turd’s mode of transportation. A Volvo Station Wagon. That is odd? The Mortgage Devil had a Volvo Station Wagon (and 10 other cars) too. I guess I didn’t get the Corporate Memo about Loan Officers driving Volvo Station Wagons. Oh, well. Boring Car…hopefully she is not as boring as her mode of transportation. When I walk past it I notice a Chicago Bears magnet attached to it. I figured it must be her husbands and he must be from the Mid-West. I roll in and the greeting was less than warm. Great, who pissed in her Cheerios? No worries, I have some chicken and it is quiet…except she talks very loud on the phone. Hopefully, she can stop talking for a few seconds while I check out some Washington Redskins news and plan for my next tailgate. I am at this office for some rest and relaxation not hear her blabber all day with lunatic customers. So, I notice this little window between the offices. Weird? What the hell is that for…passing joints…passing a flask of whiskey back in forth? Who knew?

So, I am doing my usual method of getting to know someone...it involves me sitting and observing…not saying much. What have I observed? She talks loud and is constantly on the phone…and she doesn’t like me. Ok, this is going to be challenge to figure out who she really is…so, I make it my personal mission.

The next several times I stop by the office…she started an annoying habit of running out the back door to talk on her cell phone as soon as I walked through the door. But due to the volume she speaks on the phone…and the thin walls in this office…I could figure out she was inviting her friends to the office. So, her friends would stop by…one that talked as much as her and the other seemed drunk or high or both all the time. After this scenario unfolded the same way several times…I figured this was intentional because she needed a buffer between us. She hated me. Why? Because she thought I was one of Devil’s Minion. She had no idea I was smiling and nodding to the Mortgage Devil while I was planning on how I could take him down. We had the same goal but were stuck in an ultra-competitive environment (created and encouraged by the Mortgage Devil), so we didn’t realize that we should be allies not foes.

I don’t recall the exact conversation, but I think we were talking about our children and she suddenly started not hating me so much. Then we got to know each other a little better and we realized we both had a deep hatred for the Mortgage Devil in common. Then things got really interesting…stay tuned folks.