Ask Professor Classypants: Welcome to Act Classy’s Ill-Advised Advice Column!

Welcome, readers, to the inaugural outing of Professor Classypants, truly an advice column for the ages!

DISCLAIMER:  It’s actually only for the ages of 16-23, when the world revolves around you and you have an overdeveloped sense of your own sense of humor.

The Professor, at home in her advice lab.

Dear Professor Classypants:

I am concerned that my co-worker does not truly appreciate how angry I am that, each time I pay her a compliment about her work, she responds by letting me know that she has to do her work well because “she knows I am so busy and she thought this would help.”  As a master of passive aggression myself, I choose to take this as an indictment of my own performance and worth as an employee.  How can I let her know that I’m on to her little game but maintain my superior attitude?

Yours,  Cubicle Connie…er, I mean, Veronica…yeah, “Veronica”

Dear “Veronica:”

You are the Princess of Passive Aggression.  The neh plus ultra of negative workplace relationships.  A beacon of bad blood.   I can tell because you chose the most time-honored immature way of alerting others to your dismay about their behavior:  the advice column.  Since Early Man first etched the words “Dear Abby, My brother-in-law needs to wake up and smell the coffee” on a cave wall, humankind has understood that there is no more productive or fulfilling way to communicate than doing it anonymously in a public forum and hoping your pain-in-the ass neighbor happens by it and is, either, paranoid or self-aware enough to get the message.  In recent years, people have also wisely turned to Facebook with a pithy and efficient “DONE…I’m just DONE.” or “Sometimes people disappoint you.”  But I can tell you’re of the old school.  Kudos for promoting this ancient art.  There’s really nothing more I can teach you.  -P.C.

Dear Professor Classypants:

Lately a woman of Asian descent has been asking me really ham-handed questions and yelling at me before I can even finish my reply.  It rubs me so wrong, I’m a bit surprised at myself.  Am I racist?

Sincerely, Sensitive Stan

Dear Stan:

No.  Ann Curry is just really grating.  -P.C.

Hey Professor:

Lately, I’ve had the strangest feeling…

Dear “Lately:”

I’ll stop you right there.  Sending in Jodeci lyrics?  Really?  If you’re not going to take this fake advice column seriously, then neither will I.  And besides:  “hey” is for horses…and people trained in VCR repair at that nice school Sally Struthers used to advertise on late night TV.  They’re really in demand and they make good money but I am a professor and you will salutate me with the appropriate reverence.  -P.C.

Dear Professor Classypants:

I live in a large Midwestern city and have noticed that my local mall is simply crawling with Mennonites at all hours of the day.  Big gaggles of Mennonites, clamoring for pretzels and Brookstone neck pillows and airbrushed license plates…always sporting their cute Mennonite bonnets and beards.  I don’t mean to be culturally insensitive or ignorant, I am just by nature a very curious person:  why are Mennonites always at the mall? 

Signed, Curious in Chicago

Dear Curious:

First things first, next time choose a better alias.  I appreciate that your options were limited (“Curious in Canton” has that nice alliterative ring but Canton isn’t a large city) but, really, this is a new blog and we’re just going to have to raise our game, okay?

Moving on: you ask a brilliant question.  For those readers who are unfamiliar, Mennonites are a peace-loving anabaptist ethno-religious group with origins in Germany, Switzerland, and other blonde-y places.  Some Mennonites dress in plain clothes and practice shunning but many embrace technology.  So they’re like Amish people with Game Boys.

They are brought to the malls of America by rage against their Amish counterparts.  Without trips to the mall Mennonites couldn’t taunt the Amish with old favorites like, “I had the MOST delicious pretzel today, Josiah.  A woman named ‘Auntie Anne’ makes them and serves them with the most delightful ethnic cheese; ‘nacho,’ they call it.” or “Tell me, brother, have thee seen the Blu Ray edition of ‘Striptease?’  Methinks the bonus features were lame.”  When they offer to share these wonders of the world with their plainer-living Amish friends, they deal a final comic blow: “You must try it!  Let’s drive to the mall.  Flip on the light so I can find the best route on Google Maps…oh, you can’t?  MENNONITE BURN!”  Then they run away.

So they next time you notice a woman in a long dress, Nikes, and a sweet little bonnet sifting throught bottles of Candy Apple anti-bacterial gel, don’t be scared.  Know that she is an instrument of God…for taunting the Amish. -P.C.

Dear Professor Classypants:

I was raised Mennonite and I fear you got that wrong.  I would advise my Amish friends to call Act Classy and raise Hell but, you know…the phone thing.

Yours in Faith, Mennonite Mabel

Dear Mabel:


Thanks for stopping by to live, love, and learn.  I look forward to most of your letters.  And remember:  Act Classy and you will be classy.*

Molly Martin

Professor Darla Von Classypants is actually Molly G. Martin. Because Ann Landers and Dear Abby and Dear Prudence haven't used real names in 67 years so why should she? And if you're thinking this reminds you of an old Dave Barry schtick: when you grow up and get your own blog, THEN you can have opinions.

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