How to tell if someone is an asshole: The comprehensive guide

Everyone wakes up in the morning, looks in the mirror, and believes that they are a good person.  Unfortunately, this is bullshit, and I have more than enough anecdotal evidence to prove it.  I encounter way too many Douchey McDouchenstein's out in our 'civilized' world, for this to possibly be true.

If they can't be polite they're probably a dick. 

Here are several common scenarios that will help you identify a huge pompous jerk (or figure out if you are one).

People that don't say thank you when you hold the door, are probably assholes.

• This one drives me fucking insane.  Unless you are a dementia laden old person who isn't sure I am a figment of your imagination, say 'thank you'.  Easy fucking peasy.

• Conversely, you are 2 steps behind someone, and have been for at least half a block. SO close, that if you had your eyes closed, you could still sense that another human was near you, and yet when you enter the same building, guess what she doesn't do? Good job, that's right: Hold the fucking door.  Apparently they had calculated her daily schedule down to the second, and they just didn't have the 1 second to spare; otherwise they totally would have!!

PS.  The universal exception is the awkward distance scenario, see picture below:

                         

J-Walkers are assholes. Drivers that don't let you cross in the crosswalk are also assholes.

• Dude, we all live in the same country.  The rules of the road are pretty universal, you don't just run across the street (especially when there is a cross walk within your field of vision).  Yet, you chose to, and I politely obliged even though it causes an undue and dangerous flow in the traffic pattern, and I could have justifiably ended your life instead, and you can't even give me the 'thanks hand'?  Bro, not cool.  Not cool at all 

• Conversely, if I am a law abiding pedestrian beginning my trek across the well marked pedestrian cross walk, and you see me, and then simply keep driving - you sir, are an asshole.  This happens to me all the time, and would be lying if I said I am not often tempted to pretend I have been struck to teach them a tough, but well deserved lesson.

Anyone who acts like a douche on the highway, is an asshole.
 

(Yeah, there are a ton of them, so I'll just touch on my 2 least favorite.)

#1.  The merging asshole.

• I am often stuck in 5 o'clock stop and go traffic from hell, we have all been there.  Nobody likes it, it sucks, but it is what it is.
• It does not suck more for 1 person than it does for all the rest of us poor schmucks who would rather be anywhere else after a long day of work, yet there is inevitably that 1 guy who feels he is entitled to not have to sit through it like the rest of us.
• Situation:  The lanes are merging.  Everyone knows they are merging because the highway is a fucking parking lot.  You have the opportunity to watch every car in front of you merge for at least 10 minutes because you are stuck going 5 miles per hour and have nothing else to do. 
• When it is finally your turn to complete the sacred dance called 'le merge', the dude who has been behind you in the other lane that's merging gets the sudden urge to pass  you at the last minute and cram his car in front of yours, so he can sit in front of you in the endless traffic, rather then behind you.  WHY was that so important to you; it defies my logic.

#2.  The cuts you off asshole.

• You are driving down the open, relatively traffic-free road, doing the damn thing, when all of the sudden a rusted out 1998 Honda Civic from a cross street to your left whips out in front of you like a bat out of hell, forcing you to hit the brakes and swerve.
• Once you have regained your composure, you check your surroundings.  There were no cars behind you, yet this guy could not wait the 0.008 seconds it would take for you to drive by before they nearly ended your life, so they could get to McDonalds for a fucking Shamrock Shake.
• The 'coup de grace' is when they immediately afterwards, become the most speed limit abiding citizen in the world and go 5 mph under the speed limit for the remainder of your ride behind them.  It is as though you went from not existing when they pulled out, to transforming into a goddamn state trooper.  You already screwed up dude, keep going nuts so I can get to work on time.

People that are rude to wait staff, are super huge assholes.

Common Scenario:

Friendly Barista who deals with a million self-entitled yuppies all day (approximately 100/hour) all while making virtually no money:

 

"Good Morning, how are you?"



In a hurry, sunglass-inside-wearing, specialty coffee ordering S.O.B:

"Grande White Mocha, extra foam, 2 shots, no sugar." 

Translation: "I do not acknowledge you, you are only here to assist in my completion of consuming very rich, overpriced, and decadent caffeinated beverages.  Hurry along plebian."

Familiar scenario number 2.

 

Bubbly waitress who has a kid, goes to school full time, and works weekends to get by: "How's your steak?"

Asshole with smug look on their face: "Awful. I asked for medium rare.  Does this look like medium rare to you?"

Waitress:   "Oh, I'm so sorry, let me get that taken care of for you."
Asshole:   "Yeah." (it goes without saying they will also leave a measly/no tip)

They are not your slaves, you do not deserve to treat people however you want just because you have a credit card.  You're an asshole.

So that is the guide, at least now you can try to avoid these people, or start being an asshole back and see how they like it.  And if you're reading this and thinking to yourself, "Hey, I kind of do a thing like that sometimes", the good news is, it's not to late for you.  Refer to the chart in the beginning of the post, & you'll be back on track in no time.

I will leave you with these motivational pictures I found on the internet.

 

Is everyone really as happy as they look on Facebook?



"Hi, I'm being a nice, normal person friend and checking in on you."

I am having a shitty week, no month, no...season; I'm having a shitty summer.  Looking at my personal life from the outside is similar to pulling up next to the scene of an accident 5 minutes after it happens, there's smoke coming from the engine, and you're not sure if the people in the car are even alive.  You think about helping for a minute, but you're scared that if you get too close you might see a decapitated head staring at you, or that the car is going to blow up and claim you as it's next victim; so you just keep driving and feel really glad it isn't you.

One of my good guy friends could tell I was in a funk so he called me to see how I was doing. 

The whole conversation (although well intended on his part) felt a bit obligatory because A) I'm not a phone person and B) I wasn't in the mood to discuss anything unfortunate going on with me.  Because we don't talk much, and he had taken the time to reach out, I felt like blowing him off wouldn't be the right thing to do, so I forced myself to talk.

"Thanks for calling.  I'm going to reward your kindness with horrifying, undeserved judgement because I'm nuts."

Sometimes venting can be energizing, and other times discussing things that are wrong does the opposite; it drains us.  In this case, it was the latter. I filled him in on my recent trials and tribulations, and he was very kind, and nice, and complimentary of me, which all almost felt too perfect.  I thought to myself, enough, "I'm great, I'm fantastic, blah, blah, blah", thank you, except I'm not, I'm wildly imperfect, and right now I'm stressed, and melancholy, and ready to go to bed for at least the next week and a half.

"I am not a good friend and person, you asshole, how dare you!"



(Cue Bad Idea: The part where I decided to compare my friends relationship to mine while I was in a bad mood.  Sometimes I like to learn the hardest way)

I asked him to change the subject and talk about himself, so he did.  We discussed the normal things, what he's been up to, his job, and one other thing.  He has been with a girl for a little over a year now, and it seemed like an appropriate thing to discuss, so I asked how it was going.  I think in that moment I needed to feel some reciprocal sense of chaos, to feel like my life isn't the only one that feels out of control, confusing, or difficult at times.  It was probably unfair of me to expect to solicit a specific response, but in my head that's what I wanted.  I wanted to hear, "You're not the only one going through shit, you're not the only one who doesn't have all the answers, I'm fucked up sometimes too", but that's not what I got.  I got, "Things are really great!" 

"Oh, things are perfect, you love each other every second, and you never ever fight? That's awesome, well la di fucking da, how sweet.  Sometimes my relationship is like that too, and sometimes it's like this, because we've been together for over a year and I'm not a fucking Stepford Wife."

I sensed myself having this ugly reaction inside, that I can't quite explain.  Okay, I can explain it, but I'm not sure I can defend it.  It's not as though I wanted to hear that he was unhappy, he's my friend for Christ Sake, but it didn't feel realistic.  They have been together for about a year, they just moved in together a few months ago; I mean we're friends give me the dirt!  I didn't want him to say it was crashing and burning, but I wanted to hear something that felt more human than, "things are awesome, she's the best."

So I pressed.  I said "Come on, you guys have been dating for a year.  You must have some fears, or doubts, or little arguments.  I know I do, and they suck, but they usually result in something productive, or help us understand one another."  His response was, "No, not really.  One time we got in a fight because she was dieting and it made her moody because she was hungry.  We definitely learned something about dieting.  Hahaha."  I felt my blood starting to boil.

 

"Boy, she sure was moody that day! Now I make sure I have snacks on hand so we never have to bicker again!"

Are you fucking kidding me? The biggest argument you've ever been in is the equivalent of the fucking Snickers commercial where some guy on a long car ride turns into Aretha Franklin because he needs a snack.  WOW, what is this, 'Leave it to fucking Beaver'???  At this point in the conversation I was feeling like either I'm totally fucked up because I occasionally get in an argument, or he was the world's biggest liar.  And then I felt TERRIBLE for feeling that way.  I'm sitting there thinking, this guy was nice enough to call and be a friend, and now all I can think about is how annoyed I am because he's happy.  That's brilliant, someone just put me in the straight jacket and haul me out of here, because I'm a demented, horrible person.

(Cue WORSE idea: Comparing your relationship or life to people on facebook)

"You're happy, we get it."

I think this speaks to a greater issue we can all relate to though.  Although, I don't know if my friend has really only gotten in 1 fight about some vanilla bullshit issue with his girlfriend, I shouldn't be comparing myself and my relationship to his.  I've never met this girl, there could be a thousand reasons he isn't disclosing things, a few being - he's a boy (no offense, but they aren't usually huge drama dwellers), I've never met her and maybe he doesn't want me to think bad of them,  maybe he just doesn't feel like talking about things like that, or maybe they really have only ever gotten in one "fight."  Whatever the case is, it doesn't serve me at all to compare myself to them.

"Oh really John Smith?  Well guess what I'm in a relationship with?  This carton of ice cream & box of wine, AND IT IS SERIOUS!!"

We see this on facebook all the time, and if you haven't related to anything I've said yet, maybe you will on this.  On social media we see the most edited, spruced up, cropped images of other people's lives.  Nobody* is going to go on a social platform and willingly air the things that aren't right, or could be better in their lives.  Why would they?  Instead we see the highlight reel - the birthday outing, the relationship status, the family gathering, the engagement. Social media can sometimes create a view of other people's lives that feels unattainable, but yet there it is, in spades, happening to almost everyone we know, so how can we separate ourselves from the endless inundation of filtered reality? 
*Almost nobody, there is always that one person on facebook who uncomfortably airs and exaggerates every conceivable drama in their lives for public consumption.

Think about social media like a Selfie fail.  What we see at first glance looks pretty great, but upon closer inspection things are not as perfect as they appear. We have to take the information with a grain of salt, compare it with the evidence we see in real life, and stop holding ourselves to some impossible standard. What your 1,000 FB friends, twitter celebrities, and lifestyle bloggers are leaving out, is the fight they had with their mom, the job they didn't get, or the girl they adore who doesn't want to be more than friends.

I started thinking about my friend for evidence I was not the only idiot who hasn't found out life's cheat codes yet.  He has had plenty of relationships that haven't worked out in the past.  Then I started to think about my best friends, they have tons of shit, good and bad going on in their lives, but if you looked at their FB profile, you'd think they're just hiking mountains, jetsetting to LA, and drinking craft beer all day. Just because the people around us aren't advertising their problems (and might even be doing a bit of work to hide them) doesn't mean they don't exist, myself included. 

"We're fun, fashionable, and constantly having a blast! PS, we don't care what anyone thinks, that's why we took, edited, and posted this picture for you to see."

I have a terrible habit of not being able to feel like I can relate to people who seem too perfect, too happy, too together.  But maybe I am being unfair to them with that assessment.  Maybe if we all admitted we're a little fucked up we'd have a lot more compassion for one another, and ourselves.

"Rainbows, puppies, and best friends forever!"

Party Fouls & Party Fails

The other day I was out with some hilarious friends; way funnier than me, and they said some shit that killed me, which in turn inspired this post.  Therefore, I take no credit for what I'm about to share with you.

"I have it all; no seriously, I do."

Allow me to try and develop these characters for you:

Picture a group of buddies, late twenties, functioning in the adult world, normal jobs, copywriting phrases (literally), yet they still get housed every weekend like it's college. We call this living the dream.

On top of their awesomeness, they are remarkably hilarious, just coming out of the woodwork with novel quips about any arbitrary topic you toss their way.  Banter with them is almost intimidating, even by my standards.




"Just 3 straight drunk dudes having some late night drinks; nothing gay going on here."

So we were at a little concert/beer festival having a grand old time and they started telling me a story about this friend of theirs that came back to their place after a night of drinking pretty shitfaced.


Eventually, after a few nightcaps, everyone passed out respectively, and when they awoke in the morning they found their friend lying on the couch with his shirt and NO pants on.

Did you really think I was going to put a picture of pantless man on here? Use your imagination for Christ Sake. (Actually I would if I could find one, I couldn't. I failed you.)

Picture that for a minute.  Aside from being completely disgusting, (Flaccid penis just rubbing up on your furniture and all in your face), it is also startling, and confusing.  Like, how did that combo happen?  I assume some sort of bathroom debacle, but I either didn't get the deets or forgot (I'm sorry, maybe I'll find out and add a post script, because now I'm curious all over again).

Where did the PANTS GO? What happened to God Damn PANTS???

After seeing their friend like this, they coined a term that so accurately portrays what they saw that when I heard it I almost broke a rib, and have repeated it in every possible semi-related conversation I can work it into since.

"Donald Duckin it"

This is without a doubt, the most offensive non-clothing/clothing combination one can do; especially as a dude.  Just absolutely 0.0 things flattering about it, no matter the body type.  Even as a female, that combo isn't really working, something inherently gratuitous and awkward about a bare crotch and a covered torso.

So if you're one of those guys who bangs his girlfriend, but is a little overweight, and takes off his pants, but leaves his shirt on (you know you do this guys); you're DONALD DUCKIN' IT, and it needs to stop, or it needs to catch on like wildfire so I can hear more Donald Duckin' it Tales.

DONALD DUCKIN' IT 4 LYFE!

Unemployed job hunter goes postal

My friend works for an ad agency and they recently posted an opening on Craigslist of all places (see prior posts for my unabashed love for this site). What they received, was perhaps the best response of all time. 

"Oh look, there's hundreds of ads, this should be easy."

Below is an excerpt of my conversation with her...enjoy.

My friend: "So my company posted a craigslist ad for a web developer help and this was a reply we got..."

"Oh look, we got a response!"

"You know, I email prob 30 employers a day and never get any reply, although

Im far more than qualified.  Your asking someone to do a task any PC

enthusiast could do. I can do this kind of shit with my eyes closed. But that

doesn't matter to you idiotic employers cause you'll end up hiring some dumb

fuck college kid who got drunk 24/7 while his daddy paid for his whole tuition in

cash. Fuck off and fuck your company. I hope you go out of business next

week."

"I got my 1st real job bro, let's go get hammered on my dad's AMEX to celebrate."

I honestly can't knock the guy for feeling this way, and I think he lent a pretty honest voice to the frustration many people have felt at one time or another.  Who hasn't been on the sending end of seemingly endless job inquiries, bullshit cover letters, and mind numbing hours spent sifting through and applying to jobs we know we would rather wipe our asses with then spend our lives doing, only to be sent back auto-replies or worse, nothing at all. 

"How about you take your amateur hour, piece of shit, underpaid job and shove it up your @$$!"

Going through that, especially for extended periods of time, compounded with the stress of unemployment, could make even the sanest person feel like they were about to snap.  The anonymity of the internet plus feelings of frustration between what this guy wanted and those who he perceived to be keeping it from him, finally pushed him over the edge, and in a way, I'm glad they did, mostly because it was fucking hilarious, but also because I think we can all relate.

Bathroom Spies; Hidden Cameras

I think there is someone spying on the women's restroom in my office.

"Yeah right."

OK not really, but it IS possible.

I work in an office building made up of small individual businesses, and each floor shares a bathroom - which sounds bad, but it's really not because there is honestly only about 10 people that work on my entire floor.  Plus, there is a men's room and a women's room, so with some quick, simple division..., one can reasonably conclude that I almost have my very own bathroom; which is great.

Anyways, I lost track of where I was going with this...

...Okay, yes!  So, I went to use the bathroom at work and while I was mid-relief, when suddenly the lights sort of dimmed*, and I did that thing where you look around like "WTH?...", then the barrage of irrational questions entered my mind.  For example, "Did the lights even dim...or did I just imagine that." Reason, kicks in for a second and I think, "Ok there was a power surge, or the bulb is fading...", but then I'm all "A power surge?  What even is a power surge? Did the nuclear power plant just blow? And bulbs, they don't fade, they just go out, or stay on, there can be no in between!  Something is happening here!"

*I should mention that the bathroom light does not have a dimmer switch. That would be way too obvious, and if it did, I would never admit it, and it would also mean someone was outside the door dimming my switch while I use the bathroom, which would also be weird as fuck...I digress...

^ What I imagine a power surge to look like.
"I'M HERE TO FUCK YOUR SHIT UP MOTHER FUCKER!!!"

Which leads me to the least rational and therefore final conclusion that there must be an elaborate electronic spying setup in the bathroom - that when activated, is sucking some of the power from the bulbs.  Yup, that has to be it.  All of the sudden, the whole bathroom has become suspect...that weird gap in the cheap (moveable!) ceiling tile could certainly house some strange video recording device, or maybe it's in the fucking toilet itself!    The limited cast of characters on my floor suddenly seem a bit shady as well...

"You see, you simply insert the device inside the rim of the toilet, and Voila!"

I know this sounds nuts, but stick with me here.  Every year there is at least one story about a sketchy guy camping out underneath a truck stop latrine for 2 weeks to watch girls do their business, or some person who owns a tanning salon video taping people burning their naked bodies to death.  I JUST read a story about a guy who hacked into someone's webcam, and another story about people hacking into the radio frequencies of baby monitors!  It is a sick, sick world out there, and I am not in any position to rule out these possibilities.

If you don't believe me, I submit these articles as evidence:

• Hidden Camera Found in Starbucks Toilet
• Man Hides in Septic Tank to Spy on Women

Why, you may ask, do I think people would want to watch me go to the bathroom?  Or why, more importantly, is that the possibility I concluded...well that is good question.  I would attribute it mainly to my generalized anxiety disorder mixed with a touch of narcissism.  Yes, I do think that everyone I pass on the street is looking and thinking about me, and now that I think about it, there are a few middle-aged dudes (no offense middle aged dudes, you always get a bad wrap) who try and solicit conversation in the hallway a little too often, and stare a little too long, but that could just be a result of them being friendly and me being socially awkward; the world may never know.

"Oh hey Bob Filner and Anthony Weiner, no no, I definitely was NOT referring to guys like you."

But back to what I was saying - I am not taking any chances here on the porcelain princess.  Suddenly my mind is having meta-thoughts about my crazy thoughts, and I realize I have suddenly become concerned with how I look while I'm peeing; like "that's not a very ladylike pee posture you have going on, you have to work with these spies, you don't want them thinking you are some kind of animal, straighten up and be a bit more dainty about it for Christ sake!"  

"Just taking a dainty lady pee, nothing weird going on here...do do do."

I finish my business, conclude it was probably a slight overreaction, and feel altogether impressed with what a profoundly irrational imagination I have, and what an exciting adventure the last minute and a half has been.

But seriously, you never know, there are some toilet-spying, pee getting-off-on, weirdos out there people!

PS. Does Anyone else out there "nest"? Or am I the only weirdo?

Double PS.  Does anyone else who nests ever pull up their pants and accidentally tuck the toilet paper into them without realizing, and then people see it and laugh at you, and then you have nesting PTSD after every bathroom break?

How do people know so many things? Am I Dumb?

I consider myself to be a reasonably intelligent person, but there are a lot of simple concepts that I have absolutely no excuse for not understanding.

Some examples: Time, dates, and places - someone send me back to grade school Billy Madison style ASAP.

TIME: I could not read an analog clock until...I pretty much still can't actually.  To be fair, I can, but in the way where I have to stare at it for a long time and mentally think out which hand means what and the meaning of where they fall in between the given numbers.  I can read analog clocks the way a 6 year old can add 5+7, but they have to literally count out all the numbers, probably out loud and on their hands, and maybe get it wrong once before arriving at the correct answer.  Whereas a regularly functioning adult human can just automatically conclude "the answer is 12", or "it's 6:45am" - I cannot. 

So smart people can relate - this is what it feels like when I try to read an analog clock.

"It is...43 and 1/2 O'clock."

Here is a shameful example of something I did recently; I work with children at one of my jobs (another controversial fact of my life), and one of them asked me what time the clock said in front of a large group of children and adults.  The sheer pressure of answering this question in combination with my anxiety about analog clocks, left me frozen, so I just decided to give her this look like "C'mon, you know what time the clock says."  Which was probably really cruel in retrospect, and in fact she got offended by my perceived condescending look.  She was all, "That's not funny, I really don't know how to read it."  I wanted to scream, me either, thank God I found another one like me - and then grab her in a comforting embrace!  Thankfully, while my brain scrambled to figure out what to do, one of the other children easily recited the time, which added a new level of embarrassment mixed with relief.



"Let me see...if Jesus came back to life after the 3rd day...and last year was a leap year...that means Flag Day will fall on the second Tuesday in April and I am not allowed to wear white pants anymore."

DATES: I also have no idea when well-known holidays, or birthdays of my family members are; just straight up no idea.   I just figured out last year that Christmas is December 25th, prior to that I was only reasonably confident that Christmas A) happened in winter and B) more specifically around the end of December. This still left a range of at least 10-11 possible days in which Christmas could be.  First of all, can we just admit that there are way too many holidays, and then on top of that some of them fall on the 3rd Sunday of something and change every year depending on leap years or something...that is just impossible to keep track of - pick a date and stick with, that's what I say. 

As far as not knowing my friends and family member's birthdays; the only excuse I have is total, wholesale ego-mania.  I definitely know MY birthday, other then that I have to collect a ton of context clues to decipher when other people's fall; example of how I do this in my head "I remember my dad's birthday is before September 11th (strangely morbid, but a memorable date) and after mine, so it must be in the beginning of September".  The only two holidays I know without reference are Fourth of July (can't screw that one up) and New Years Eve; no joke.



"According to my calculations, we're fucked."

DIRECTIONS:  How the fuck do people know which direction they're going.  I still don't get this.  If you place a map in front of me with a little compass on it and I can tell you North, East, South, and West until I'm blue in the face, but other then that I am at a complete loss. 

My boyfriend for example, can be in the hallway of a building, in a town he has never been to before, and be like "We're southwest of Lake Tahoe right now", how the fuck do you know this?  Or maybe we're lost in the woods and he'll just look into the sky and say "Just keep heading East and we'll be out of here in no time."  Really?? Will we??  Are you some type of direction wizard or something?  Reveal to me your magic or I will kill you out of fear! 

Even more embarrassing; I pretty much only know the street I live on, that's it.  I have more or less driven the same highways and roads my entire life.  It could be my 400th trip going to my parents house and my dad will call to see where I am and I cannot tell him whether I am on 495, 95, or 93 and forget about adding 495N or 93S into the mix, that is a complete loss.  Instead I'll say something like, "Remember where that Friendly's Restaurant was when I was five, but then they closed it?  That's where I am."  That is how my brain works.

Hopefully, I will just never get stranded on the side of a road in the winter, have a child I am responsible for disseminating practical knowledge to, or be in charge of leading the new world in some post-apocalyptic scenario.

In summation; I'm dumb, signs rule, lets nix some of the holidays because it is seriously getting out of hand, and digital clocks for life!!!!



My Boyfriend sucks at texting

So basically my boyfriend and I are total opposites when it comes to the world of virtual communication (is that a term?). What I am trying to say is non face-to-face interaction; we're bad at it. 

There are several rational reasons for this, but it still drives me nuts.

• He is 12 years older then me and thinks I live in a world of TTYLs and Justin Bieber Tiger Beat posters
• He sort of lives on the fringe of society, doesn't cut his hair, not a giant facebooker, etc.
• He is dude and is not highly emotive or overly loquacious; especially when it comes to things like 'texting'
• If I had it my way he would hit me up 24/7 with sweet nothings and inside jokes (which in reality would probably drive me insane), so perhaps I am a bit skewed on what an acceptable amount of texting actually is.

Now before I make him look like a total prick and me like a psycho (the second assumption may be fair); I should preface the post by saying he is by far the coolest/nicest guy I have ever dated.  We live together so he sees me and has to deal with my B/S constantly, yet still grins and bears it, always appearing to listen - even if secretly he is thinking about pizza or something.  Because of this, I sort of grant him a reprieve when he sucks at texting, but I still need to rib him about it because I am sadistic like that.

"So I told Karen, I love dogs, but I just don't think I'm ready for that kind of responsibility"
"Yeah, Karen always does that to you (When the F!*K is she going to shut up?  I wonder if Karen is single?)"

To illustrate a common text-ual interaction between us I have copied one below:

(Introduction to what is going on: I am a little manic and got it in my head we should buy a lake house - which is ridiculous for several reasons, 1 - being I am 24 and broke, 2 - he is already building us a house we can't afford right now.  This is how the conversation begins.)


ME: "Ok Chris, I just emailed you 6 houses, one of which we shall purchase.  Please confirm receipt of this text so I know you are taking me seriously.  Also, my family is vacationing in that area next week so we go too and see all of them!"

(He is probably thinking - how exciting, we get to waste time looking at houses we can't afford and vacation with your parents!)

(....Time passes, no answer..but I had expected this -

I decide to text again....)

ME: "You Fail. F. For fail." (I am clever)

BOYFRIEND: "I'm working donkey." 
(I tell myself this is a term of endearment)

ME:  "All the poor people who call and text you between the hours of 8-5 must be so confused and worried about how you never answer, maybe we will get together and start a support group called "The Forgotten", except I have a feeling I will be the creator & sole member of said group - just a flat out lonely existence for poor old me."

BOYFRIEND: "Thank God you are not too dramatic."

ME: "Now that I have your attention, what are we doing/not doing tonight since I have to work tomorrow night and thus must maximize tonight's awesomeness potential."  (That is my underhanded way of complaining about how we don't go out enough)

BOYFRIEND: "Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz." (Seriously, that is what he texted me.)









ME: "Shooting virtual death rays at you with my brain."