A. Marie Silver

A. Marie Silver

Community Relations Committee

It was a beautiful, sunny day at the van Wench residence. Becky and Clarissa are indulging in mid-day, sugar-free, gluten-free, margaritas at Judy’s pool.
“I’ve never been so frustrated!” Clarissa leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples.”I have so much work going on. I get at least 1,000 comments on my YouTube videos each day. And that secretary! She’s worthless. All I asked is that she run to the post office twice daily. Once to check my P.O. Box in the morning, and then a second time after the mail is delivered so she can return any packages from Amazon I don’t want. Not only does she not do her job, but she also gives me attitude. It’s not my job, Clarissa. I don’t work for you, Clarissa. I’m not your personal secretary, Clarissa. Of course she’s my secretary! She works for the HOA and therefore for all of the residents. I’m a resident.” She sighed.

“Tell me about it.” Becky is sitting in a chair, next to rubbing sunscreen on her legs. “Do you remember what happened with Rudy?”

Clarissa reached over, squeezing Becky’s hand in comfort. “How could any of us forget poor Rudy.”

“I still can’t believe how insensitive the secretary was over that,” Becky continued. “All I wanted was someone to run copies of the poster I printed and then distribute it all over town. But did she do that for me? For Rudy? No. She was all, I’m sorry about your dog, Becky. I’ll be happy to post the information about your missing dog on the community’s website, Facebook page, and Instagram account but there’s no budget for running copies and I’m definitely not posting flyers up all over town.

“No budget for copies.” Judy scoffed. “I’ve been to that woman’s house and let me tell you something. Not only does she have a very nice printer but she also buys the paper for it at Costco. Honestly, would it really kill her to donate some of her time and paper to helping you find your dog?”

“She’s so selfish,” Becky said.

“Where is my cell phone?” Judy looked around at the table near the pool. “Ladies,” She said, continuing to look for her phone. “The problem is you’re both too angelic and sweet. Gumption is needed when dealing with the HOA secretary. A few days ago, I contacted her regarding the upcoming HOA community barbecue. I told her I needed her to be the contact person for the RSVP list and also to manage the potluck signup sheet which I’ve already assembled so that the residents would know what foods are acceptable to bring. Can you imagine if someone showed up to this event with burgers and hot dogs?”

“Yuck. Red meat.” Clarissa cringed and shivered in her seat.

“Naturally the HOA secretary stood firm on her position that this was not her job. She said she’d send out an email with the potluck list to all of the residents as well as post it to the website and social media accounts but that was going to be the end of it.”

“She is so lazy,” Becky said, sipping her drink. “I’m gonna pray for her.”

“I wasn’t going to stand for that,” Judy said, placing her hands on her hips. “Yesterday, I had my driver, Franze, take me to her house on the way to Patrice Remingon’s weekly therapy. I marched straight up to her door, shoved the potluck list into her hands and told that woman that she was the contact person for the RSVP and she was going to manage the potluck list as well. And then I left. I haven’t heard one word from her since.”

“I’m sorry to change the subject,” Becky said. “How is Patrice?”

“She’s okay. Her therapist said that the nightmares she’s been having are likely due to the stress of having to navigate her paws over all of the acorns in my backyard which, might I remind both of you, the HOA still has done nothing about.” Judy flipped up a couple of cushions. “Where is my phone? Ladies, I’ll be right back. My little one, Salon, had a cough today and I want to be sure I hear the phone if her nursery school calls. God knows if she needs to be picked up, I won’t be able to count on the HOA secretary to do it.”

“Did you ever find Rudy?” Clarissa asked Becky.

“Yes. He found his way home. Poor thing. His fur was all scruffy and dirty. Also, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t following his diet while he was out, running all over the place. His breath smelled like rotting meat and carbohydrates. I had to schedule appointments with the groomer, the vet, the dietician, and the masseuse. But at least he’s home.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

Loud screams come from inside of the house.

Clarissa and Becky leaped out of their chairs, running inside.

Judy is inside, screaming at her cell phone. Her face is red with rage.

“Honey,” Clarissa said. “What’s wrong?”

“That. Woman.” The words seethed out of Judy’s clenched jaw. “She changed the RSVP contact information to my cell phone. I have over 60 text messages from residents, either RSVP’ing or asking questions about the potluck acceptable foods list.”

Becky and Clarissa gasped.
“And that’s not the worst of it,” Judy said. “Check out the Facebook post about the barbecue.” She turned her phone around for them to see.

Becky and Clarissa leaned in to look and then jumped back.

“Oh the audacity!” Clarissa cried.

Thanks for shopping Snark, Sass, & Sarcasm. I’ll see you next time!

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A. Marie Smith

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