Southern cats

When I first started my job, I was relieved to meet the wine orderer at one of my biggest accounts, Peggy. She was a very sweet, motherly woman, and after we hit it off immediately I began looking forward to our Monday morning meetings, figuring we would chat pleasantly about the leisurley lives we both surely led before getting down to the business of putting in an order for lots and lots of wine.

And this is pretty much how it's gone so far. Until this week I learned of something that was amiss...
"Nope, we've gotten nothing but positive feedback about you," my boss assured me, "well... (snicker snicker) except for Peggy, but it's really nothing."

"What, what?!?!" I alarmed, my defensiveness quickly perked up. What could my psuedo-mother possibly have to say about me?

"Well, she called the office and suggested that you not wear such low-cut shirts. And flip-flops," he said dismissively.

"WHAT????!!!" I practically screeched. "I do not wear low cut shirts!!!"

(Picture of Rees, taken last weekend.)

















"And when have you ever seen me in flip flops?"

(Picture of Rees' closet. Can you tell that those are all flip flops?)















"Rees, don't get all worked up about it," my boss assured me. "If we had thought anything of it I would have said something to you earlier. It's just old Southern women competition."

"Humph. That old biddy is just jealous."

"That's exactly what we said. And the important thing is, Tom and Jason have started buying a ton of wine from you. Which is probably why she got catty in the first place."

Lesson learned. Even if someone seeme sweet as pie, don't let your guard down, even for a second. You never know who will turn catty.