I don't have a significant work background, but I've noticed a trend. The requisite Crazy Old Lady. The first: Merrilly, at Marshall Field's in Downtown St. Paul. Heavy smoker (this is a prerequesite to the archetype) serious attention to fashion, and spitfire-y. Merrilly and I worked together selling makeup and perfume. She was an expert and veteran in sales. That raspy voice and overly-shellacked makeup was intimidating enough to make you buy synthetic crap. Tommy Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren, you know, the standards. Although, she claimed "I'd never buy from that Hilfiger bastard, he hates Jews." Which is a curious rumor started in the 90's about Hilfiger - that he's racist. The current crazy, is the office secretary. Though, I would describe her as pre-Merrilly, she does the smoking and the too-much-makeup thing. Raspy voice for sure. In fact I hear it wafting over the beige wall of my cube right now. She truly is crazy in training. I love her though. As a young'n in the office these ladies have always been motherly, helping me feel better about my entry-level status. She tells me stories and then lets out a scratchy laugh. Vaguely maniacal, yet soothing because at least she talks to me.
Over and out boyyyy.
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