Playing with Barbie

You all recall "Barbie" from my previous posts? Well, she's back and bitchy as ever! Friday night, the displeasure of her company was all mine. I ask, about ten thousand times a night, each girl, "do you need help? can I do anything for you?" and with Barbie, the answer is always the same, a resounding "NO!". Not being omnipotent, I find something else to do instead of assisting her, then she goes full tilt, into the weeds. She rants and raves at the bus kid for not doing whatever it is that SHE thinks they should be doing, and all after declining the offered help she needed from the start. One would ask why she declines the assistance being offered, and I have no sound reasoning to offer in her defense.
But what do I expect from Miss methadone besides pendulum like mood swings? professionalism. Its a high expectation, I understand, but its expected of me, so why not Barbie? I digress....
Barbie has never been to NYC (its a mere two hour drive from this hamlet), and I, ever on the peace train, was trying to broaden her world, just a bit, by taking her on an NYC excursion. Well, the MET is out, Barbie isn't "into" art (translation, she's under-educated and has no concept of fine art). Broadway is out too, Barbie doesn't like "plays" (yes, I'm dying laughing as I type this). So the winner is MONTEL WILLIAMS, with special guest SYLVIA, the psychic medium! oy vey, my head! I can guess why she wants to be in this audience, her late husbands demise. I am not judging Barbie on this, I can't say with 100% surety that contact after death exists or does not. If I were in her shoes, perhaps I'd want some comfort via Sylvia too, but I'm not. It just seems so damn pedestrian to me. to each her own, I suppose. I'm sure if nothing else, the trip will provide fodder for this blog, so stay tuned!