Chi Chi Maldonado's School of Likability

Chi Chi Maldonado is a character I created when my work day was confined within the walls of a cubicle.  She was a hot soccer mom private detective with some mad cap adventures.  She amused me from time to time.  Little did I know that Chi Chi is slang for a woman's breasts.  Most of my co-workers did.  No wonder they found her amusing.

This morning Chi Chi suddenly showed up in my shower.   I'd forgotten all about her.  She is no longer a hot soccer mom PI.  She's now a "life enrichment facilitator."  She's opened her own school called, "The Chi Chi Maldonado School of Likability.  She tells me that it's a smashing success.

I ask Chi Chi, "So what's up with this likability thing?"
You could tell she really loved my question and the chance to talk about her work.
"Honey, I'm so glad you asked.  You know how some folks are so likable that you can't help being drawn to them?"
"Yes," I say.
"You know there are some folks who aren't very like-able?"
"Yes, "  I say again.  I just wish she'd get to the point.
"Tell me which one of these types of people do you want to work with, live next to, marry or just pass on the sidewalk?"
"The likable one." I say, stating the obvious.

"A lot of good people get caught up in their own lives, heads and problems.  They fail to do the simple things that would make their lives and the lives they touch easier and more enjoyable for all those involved.  I just help them find their kinder, gentler selves."
She pauses and begins again.

"People are a lot like children.  You have to keep reminding them, guiding them, encouraging them or they lose their way.  That's what I do at Chi Chi's School of Likability.  I remind them who they can be and how much easier their lives will be if they focus on being more likable people."
She looks at me hoping for some sign that I understand.  I nod.

"I've got ten principles of likability," Chi Chi says.
I have to ask, "What are they?"
She smiles a smile so wide I'm afraid her face can't contain it.
She winks and says, "Honey, I thought you'd never ask."

"Number one:  Good manners are the extra virgin olive oil in the skillet of life."
I struggle not to roll my eyes.  She's got to be kidding.
Trying not to lose me she adds, "They're good for you and keep things from sticking together."
I nod politely.  I do have a few good manners.  I try to use them now.  I really just want to run.

Suddenly: Chi chi says, "Number two" and starts singing, "R-E-S-P-E-C-T"
Again, she smiles a face-cracking smile. 
"It's more than a great song by Aretha.  Treating others with respect will make you a guaranteed people magnet."
Inside, I wonder, "Do I want to be magnetic?"  I'm not so sure.

"You're going to love this next one," she says.  I groan on the inside.
"Number three:  Use your ears more, your mouth less.  Enough said."  She moves to number four.

"Number four: Develop X-ray vision."
This is a super power I find rather disturbing.  She quickly adds, "You've got to look past what's on the outside and learn to see what's underneath."
Is she making sense?  She may not be crazy after all.  Let's face it.  A name like Chi Chi doesn't inspire credibility. My thoughts are soon broken by . . .

"Number five: Wear the other person's shoes." 
I think of podiatrists everywhere experiencing a huge increase in their patient loads.
"You've got to put yourself in another's place.  You've got to learn how to see the world from other people's perspective." She gives me a sly wink.

"Number six:  Never take anything seriously, especially the slights of others."

She quickly follows with, "Number seven: Make everything important."
This contradiction is enough to make my head spin.  I feel like Linda Blair for a second.  My head does a 360 and I spew green vomit.  Fortunately, all this stays in my head.  I look up.  She is still talking.

"Number eight:  Let them see you sweat.  Your imperfections, your humanity can make you more likable. Perfection makes people uncomfortable."
Air brushed models everywhere must  quake for fear of their livelihood.. 

How did we get to number eight with my cynicism still in tact.  I'm really not very nice.  I see the red line measuring my likability plummet.  It'll be a cold day in hell. . .  Chi chi looks at me and for the first time she seems to be looking into my soul.  The scales fall from my eyes.  My fear of not being likable is a cynical chasm between us.  I begin to cross it.  She gestures toward me with a graceful extension of her arm.

"Number nine: Smile," she says.  "It's a great face lift."
My wait for number ten is interrupted by a strong knock and voices on the other side of a door.  The crowd begins to chant, "Chi Chi, Chi Chi, Chi Chi. . ."  She moves toward the door while never losing eye contact with me.  Her eyes are smiling.

"Number ten:  Never miss an opportunity to love." she says.
She opens the door and steps into the waiting crowd  wearing her face splitting smile.  The day shines brightly.
As she leaves I say, "Thanks, Chi Chi" and I mean it.  I just might have to take her course.  She could teach me a thing or two.