Being a Full-Metal Karen, or Taking Control of a Flower Arrangement

Being a “Karen” is such a negative insult but sometimes, not often but sometimes, a person simply must go Full Metal Karen. For example when people you give you the wrong directions just to get rid of you (or, to give them the benefit of the doubt which they do not deserve, because they did not know). Yes, Darling, I have been known to walk back to people who gave me bad directions to tell them that they were wrong, to encourage them not to commit such malfeasance again. If you don’t know – don’t say anything.

And, in the Middle East, sometimes we (royal ‘we’) simply must step in and do it the right way as there are limits. Limits I tell you. Especially as concerning the important things in life, like bouquets.

A dear friend’s birthday and off I sped to the (one) flower store to create a lovely bouquet and what do I see? Dusty vases! Sigh. So I ask one of the clerks to please clean one and what does the clerk do? (I hope you are sitting down with a large beer stein full of vodka.) She picked up a bottle of Windex and began spraying it with Windex. Heaven forfend. Saints preserve us. Where is a compound bow when you need one?

Either I was going full-metal Karen or there was going to be blood shed, hair pulled, toes broken and eyes gouged. Put down that Windex and back away from the vase.

I refrained (such self-control) from yelling and in a quiet but icily-steely voice said, “May I please have the vase?” and asked where the sink was. Consternation. The three clerks and manager refused to tell me and kept trying to get the vase out of my hand.

Luckily I am well-versed and well- practiced I tactical evasive maneuvers. Vase firmly in grasp, I repeated, “Where is the sink please?” until they relented. I washed the vase myself and filled it ½ with water. Then back to flower selection. When I started to pull out blooms, the manager tried to get between me and the buckets of flowers. I almost hissed at her, but I refrained (such self-control) and, luckily, another customer came in so the manger disappeared.

I cut the stems myself and arranged the flowers to my liking as the clerk stood next to me, quite amused. I asked her to please tie a ribbon around the vase and then tipped her.

The manager was totally appalled when I brought the petit vision of loveliness to the counter to pay but I didn’t care. For once – ONCE – I wanted a bouquet that looked like a proper bouquet, not dying flowers stapled to pieces of cardboard, dying slowly while emitting quiet yelps of despair.

I will not justify the ways of Karens, but on rare occasions, one must stand one’s ground.