My coworkers are much too young to understand any of my references from growing up in the 1980s. So naturally, I now have no choice but to walk into the ocean to embrace my fate as an old sea hag.
It all started with a zoom call when I said someone’s hair reminded me of Flock of Seagulls. My fetus of a coworker replied, “Who is that?” They googled it in real-time and added flatly, “Oh yeah. That’s funny.”
And just like that, two more what-the-fuck lines appeared on my forehead.
Another time I was referencing the movie Labyrinth to another embryo coworker of mine who nodded along.
“You’ve never seen Labyrinth, have you?” I asked. They nodded no and asked, “Is that the one with David Bowie?” Sweet summer child, David Bowie in Labyrinth was not just a character but a sexual awakening. His tights alone are legend. Show some respect.
Then there was the fateful day when not a single one of the toddlers I work with knew what a Fraggle was. IS NOTHING SACRED?
And this is why I must now retire to my demise by walking into the sea. Because I cannot live another day having to explain an entire decade of references to the people I work with.
Is there a more reasonable solution to this? Probably. But returning to the sea, like the timeless Godzilla-like creature I clearly am, feels like the right thing to do. (And hopefully they’ll understand that Godzilla reference since they recently came out with those new versions with that Eleven girl.)
About the Author
Joanna McClanahan loves her kids, cats, satire… and hates pretty much everything else. You can find more from her Ramblin Mama account on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and [begrudgingly] on TikTok. For her real job, she works as a Branded Content Editor for Scary Mommy.