Entries in WTF (3)


Sex doesn't always sell


It takes a bit to shock me, but a recent event left me insulted and thinking WTF.

Marina and Jane, (work friends) and I were looking forward to spending time together at a hotel launch.  The invitation offered nice wine, a relaxed dinner and the opportunity to enjoy their five star facilities.   A good chance to catch up.

We were greeted in the foyer by staff who offered us wine and canapés.  A delicious spread of arancini balls, smoked salmon and meat things that are of no interest to me lay in abundance.  We chatted about our day before being guided into another room by a woman dressed (cheaply) as Marilyn Monroe.  She whispered and pouted and seemed uncomfortable in her role. 

After a brief presentation with no substance we were corralled to another area – another lobby – with more hors d’oeuvres and champagne on offer.   As we stood awkwardly wondering why we needed to check out a long hallway, ‘Marilyn’ invited us to head down to the bar for “a very special treat”. 

In the bar, a vivacious bar tended mused with enthusiasm that we were about to try the hottest thing around right now.  An espresso martini.  Ah, I’ve been drinking those for about ten years thanks to the Hot Barista.  You’re a little late.   Glancing at the bar lined with cocktails, I noticed their insipid colouring … and guaranteed to my friends that they would be bad versions of my beloved espresso martini.  I needed to try one.  Just to check.  Sipping nervously, my fears were real.  They were made with a coffee essence.  One taste and I was done.

I noticed the same canapés from two previous rooms on display.  Recycled hors d’ouvres ?  How very eco-friendly.  WTF?

One of the hotel staff suggested we head upstairs to check out the penthouse so we wandered back into the main foyer.  She went back into the bar, presumably to find more guests, and after waiting for 20 minutes in front of the cold open door, we noticed her drinking cocktails with her workmates.  WTF?

Finally another staffer lead us to the penthouse for a tour.  These can be fun, as I like to see how the other half live.  There’s no penthouse version in the cheap hotels I stay in.  You’re lucky if they have a hair dryer.

We snaked our way through the room and I noticed Marilyn draping herself over a king-sized bed while a photographer took shots of her.  WTF?  Does she come with the room?  Is she the one who delivers room service?  I was a little confused.

Marina, Jane and I climbed the polished spiral staircase with our hosts and found ourselves in a giant tiled room with a large spa bath, front and centre.   My OH&S brain kicked in as I worried about how to get out of the bath on such a slippery floor without castrating yourself.  Not a bathmat in sight. 

As we waited for the others to join us (still sculling their cocktails) we chatted to two boys who ran an entertainment company.  They were funny and cute and also slightly confused as to what was going on.   We agreed we wanted things to hurry up so we could get to dinner as the second hand canapés weren’t cutting it.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, sorry to keep you waiting but we have something very special for you”, sing songs a male staffer. 

By this time the room is packed and we are all jammed into one end of the giant bathroom.  My back is pressed against the bubbled tile wall and I can only just see over the shoulders of the crowd in front of me. 

Suddenly there’s a muffled cheer and Marilyn enters the room clutching a bottle of champagne.  She sashays around pouting and blowing kisses at everyone as they take photos.  Sure.  Whatever. 

Marilyn stops in front of the spa and does a little shimmy before turning her back on us all and kicking off her heels.   She then drags the long zipper of her sequined dress down and steps out of it, letting it drop to the floor.   What’s going on, I whisper to Marina who gives me a puzzled look.  Marilyn turns to face us and we find she’s wearing tiny nipple covers and a flesh coloured G-string.  WTF?

A girl next to me has her phone held high in the air so I can see the charade clearly on her screen.  We both gasp at each other as Marilyn climbs into the bathtub and kneels in the water.   She then splashes around briefly while a few take photos and video.  I press myself further into the wall, praying it swallows me up.  Jane and Marina look dumbfounded.  I feel the same.

Marilyn then stands up in the bath, grabs a bottle of champagne and clutches it with her thighs as she pops the cork dramatically.   She lets the liquid flow down her breasts as she wriggles provocatively making little moaning noises.  I feel dirty.  Am I at a buck’s party? Surely someone is going to yell “Surprise, you’ve been punked!”

Finally, a female Manager suggested everyone head to dinner.   A few guests followed her down the staircase while others posed in front of Marilyn.  Still in shock I see her lick the champagne bottle like someone on heat.  WTF?   As the boys pose for a photo I sneak one (from the back) to prove to myself – and others – that this really happened.  

I wondered how much this actress / model / promo girl got paid for that gig.  I wanted to give her $100 and tell her to put her clothes on and get an Uber home. 

We declined the offer of dinner and left.  I was in shock and disgusted at the stunt, fearing that perhaps Marilyn would be covered in food like a human buffet at our next stop.   Excuse me, can you please move your right breast and pass me some of that smoked salmon?  Thanks.  No thanks.

That night I was still wondering how a Marketing team could think that was a good idea for an upmarket hotel.   Any hotel.  It was tacky, salacious and pointless I noted to the hotel manager in my complaint (finding lots of big words to use to describe my disgust).  I talked of my horror at the objectification of women and wondered what sort of image they were trying to portray.  To her credit, she followed me up and we had a good conversation.  She invited us back to the hotel another time for a better experience.  Do you think Marilyn will be there? Let's hope she got a new gig somewhere.  


Hey full moon, WTF?

I’ve had quite a week.  The term What The F*ck comes to mind.  It was a mixed bag.  Angry people, lovely friends.   Birth and Death.  Old and new friends. A tsunami of weird stuff.  I tried hard to stay zen. 

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but there’s been a lot of intense energy around lately.  Usually it’s one of the planets in retrograde which makes everyone go crazy.  This time, I’m blaming the full moon.  I made sure I meditated every morning to keep myself on track.  

It all started at work on Monday.  I love my job and I work with some amazing people but there were hot heads everywhere.  Even people who are usually calm and resilient were losing their shit.  Thank God we get free coffee three times a week, as I fear there would have been a stabbing.

That night the Celebrity Chef and I texted funny notes back and forth.  After an hour he told me he’d met someone awesome.  I realised he wasn’t talking about me.  I wish he’d told me earlier so I could have had an extra hour’s sleep. 

Twin Kat was in fine form under the full moon.   She’s been dating a new guy – we call him The Dad.  He has three kids to two different women and he’s not even 35.  Good on him for ticking life boxes so early.  I could see that she really likes him but then he did the classic guy thing and started to pull away.  For his ‘off week” (eg; no kids) he only booked in one date. She was upset but we talked it through.  He’s probably got a lot on I said.  He confirmed this, telling her he had study to catch up on. 

On Tuesday she received a text from him asking to pop over on her way home from visiting her Mum.   Is this a booty call she asked?  Maybe, he replied, adding a cute little smiley face emoji.  Twin Kat lost her shit.  Just as I was walking through the door after a feral day.  I instantly changed into my United Nations uniform. 

We talked about how she felt (disrespected) and how she should respond (direct with respect).  In classic Twin Kat she typed a note using words starting with F and C.  I suggested she tell him why she was upset but to do it pleasantly and politely.  Confused, she handed me her phone and I typed the message for her to send the next day. 

It’s amazing how honesty pays off (who knew?!) as he told her he was embarrassed and didn’t mean to make her feel that way, and now they’re back on.  I think she needs to hire me as her life coach. Or her personal message texter. 

On Wednesday, a lovely friend announced to the world that she and her husband were expecting a baby.  Such joy.  She then continued with her news … the baby has Down Syndrome but they are excited to be meeting their beautiful new child with love in a few months.  I burst into tears.  Joy.  Fear.  Admiration.  A nice way to get perspective on life and remember that there are people who are going through tougher times than you – and also making hard and brave decisions.  

Later I had dinner at a vegan restaurant with Super Lovely Em.  It was old school – a lovely Asian lady bringing us tofu with veggies and brown rice. No fancy expensive hipster vegan here.  It did the job.  I left feeling zen.  What full moon?

Thursday morning my Mum rang me at work (a sure sign something is wrong) to tell me my (ex) father in law had passed away.  I haven’t seen him for over ten years – and we’ve not spoken – however it’s still sad when someone you know dies.   The other sad thing is that he was estranged from my ex hubby … which meant he had no idea his Dad had died.

I rang him that night.  We are good friends, however we don’t speak as often as we’d like, so he was suspicious as to why I’d call out of the blue.  I had to deliver the news that his Dad had gone, and as the tears rolled down my face I heard the sadness in his voice. He felt so far away at that moment.  Not just because he lives overseas but also because I could do nothing to comfort him. 

Friday felt like everyone was calming down.  I spent time with Yoga Girl who was visiting from interstate.  It was nice to drink wine and forget about all the weird shit from the week.  I also ate a lot of roti which calms my soul in ways I can’t describe.

The weekend finally rolled around and I was counting my blessings for a week of WTFs to be over.  Then it took me 75 minutes to get home from Salt Therapy (usually a 25 minute trip) and I was less than zen. As I pulled into my driveway, I noticed a guy sitting in the gutter.   Across the laneway was his buddy, red texta in hand, scrawling a crappy tag on the wall.  WTF? 

Hey, what you are you doing?  Stop that”, I angrily told him.   As he wandered off, his gutter buddy started having a go at me.  “What’s your problem, it’s what we do. Why would you care?  It’s not even your property.” 

I got out of the car – standing behind the gate so I could sprint into my house if needed – and continued my tirade. He countered me with a one way blast.     

Just shut up.  We’ll do what we want.  You’re just lucky we didn’t do anything to your car” he leered at me.  He looked like he hadn’t slept for days and had recently taken something stronger than Panadol. A nice conversation wasn’t on his radar.  I backed away but waited around the corner until he walked off.  He was telling his buddy about our conversation, incredulous that I’d told them to stop graffiting our lane.  I mean how rude.

The next time there’s a full moon I’m locking myself away.  It kills my zen.       


Hey Universe. WTF?

Do you ever stop and wonder, how did I get here?  What the hell am I doing?  What is this all about?  WTF?

I’ve had a really fun week.  Lots of functions and events.  Champagne and canapés.  Frocking up and feeling good.  Compliments from friends. (God bless Instagram).  Work has been busy but fulfilling.  I had my bestie in town and we got to hang out.  I’ve had so many moments of fun and happiness.  My life is pretty good.

A stack of weird, random stuff has happened too.  Things that make little sense to me and I’m left wondering “What the f*ck?”  

Perth Bestie and I caught up with Ms Brisvegas in a gay club.  We had one drink and only stayed for an hour. I took a photo of us dancing together and posted it online.  Two lesbians messaged me to see if I’d like to chat.  Good to know I’m attractive to someone out there.  

Three men I dated got in touch with me. Randomly. Out of the blue.  All in the same week.  Is it the full moon?  Am I putting out strange Contact Me vibes? 

The first was via text to ask me if I’d fallen in love yet.  (All the time, I replied.  Mainly with espresso martinis).  Yes, maybe with you idiot.  A long time ago. Not that you ever noticed.  Enjoy married life with your new wife. 

Another sent me a strange joke.  It’s kinda funny.  It’s mainly crude.  I didn’t reply.  I had no idea what to say.  What’s an appropriate line for a guy who isn’t right for you (and vice versa) … but keeps poking at you?  Any suggestions?

The most intriguing encounter kept my head busy for days.  It involved a bit of research (stalking) and detective work, after he left little clues all over my cyber world.  It was like piecing a jigsaw together.  HCM reached out randomly, leading me to discover an unexpected talent he has – something we have in common. Things he had never shared when we dated.  (Let me point out that this short lived but intense whirlwind romance only lasted 19 days, but I fell pretty hard, so silly me for assuming I knew about his secret passions). 

After three days of overworking both my brain and my phone, I ignored the knots in my stomach and texted him. Does this plus this equal this, I asked. Yes it does, he confirmed. Suddenly, we’re texting back and forth like we used to.  I won’t lie.  It felt nice.  It was one of the fun things I liked about having him in my life.  The banter that filled my world – starting first thing in the morning – then sending me off to sleep at night.  I missed that. 

Now I’m in a state of slight confusion.   He’s shared something great with me and I want it to continue but I’m not sure what’s going on.  Does he want to be friends?  Is he looking for feedback and encouragement? Is he trying to mess with my head?  I’m pretty sure he’s seeing someone else.  He may even be in love.  So why, out of the blue, would he make contact?  The question we all ask ourselves when the past pops up unexpectedly and says “Hey, Whatcha Doing?”  

As I sit in a messy overthinking space my mind continues to play tricks on me, creating more scenarios than a Choose Your Own Adventure book. I’m trying hard – really hard – not to think too much about it. 

Yes, I’m failing miserably.

My final and most infuriating moment came from a guy I’ve never met.  We’ve never spoken. We exchanged just five emails – over a period of three weeks.  He suggested that I don’t ‘seem that keen on a relationship’, because, oh, I haven’t been sitting on my laptop waiting for him to message me – or replying immediately.  I have a day job – and a social life – and a super busy week of events, Judgmental Justin – I told you that in email two.  Were you paying attention?

He then went on to explain that he was ‘sort of dating’ a girl anyway, but if I decided I did want to meet him (since I look like I’d be a lot of fun), I should let him know.  Hey JJ, thanks for the offer, but you can jam it.  I’ve got three other men and two hot chicks who want to catch up with me.

WTF indeed.