The Gym Attire

I don’t know if people will agree with this, but over the past 15-20 years our generation has shown that we are the obsessive generation. I don’t think it’s like any other generation. I could be wrong though. I didn’t live through the 70’s and 80’s. I’m just some shmuck who’s barely a nineties kid pretending not to be a millennial.

Every week there is something new with these people though, whether it be a fidget spinner, Pokémon cards, Call of Duty, Stranger Things, or a fucking Tamagotchi. We are a very obsessive group of human beings. Maybe that will help us in our careers to help develop products faster. Just kidding, these quick phase obsessions are just wasting our time. Our devotion to Netflix, Hulu, HBOGO, and all the other binge-watching type TV applications, is not going to help us learn anything. It might entertain us and help with emotional stress purely in an escapist type way, but these things aren’t helping. The fact that people have caught up on 300 episodes Grey’s Anatomy, which is approximately 8.3 days worth, is actually insane.

I have seen some healthy obsessions lately though. Maybe I’m crazy, but I don’t think there has ever been this many people addicted to their health, whether they become a vegan/vegetarian, stop eating red meat, shop organically, or, of course, go to the gym an unreal amount of times. This is one of the few obsessions in our generation that may be a good thing. Sure some of the diets are outrageous, like one time my friend ate only frozen blueberries, protein shakes, and egg whites for a whole week. Some people say cut out all of the carbs, but look how that turned out for the Atkin’s guy. Some vegetarians only eat pizza and peanut butter and jelly which is not exactly healthy. Then some people do juice cleanses and shit their brains out for days at a time.

I respect people who can spend time counting macros and watching every single thing that enters the body, because I did it for two weeks, and I’ll definitely never do it again. I enjoy eating at restaurants way too much to have a strict diet. I’ll go to the gym and try to eat healthy as much as I can, but after a few beers on a Friday night, I just want a couple slices of pizza with meatball.

Going to the gym though has turned into all sorts of different things. On one hand you got people doing crossfit, slinging weights around like the fucking original Greek Olympics. Then, on the other hand, you got these guys at the gym squatting 450 pounds trying to see if they can crush their knees into an oblivion. Every other weekend you have people racing through obstacle courses like it’s the God Damn Hunger Games. When it really comes down to it, there’s nothing better then the guy using the neck machine at the gym. That’s definitely good for the cervical spine.

Don’t, get me wrong, I love the gym. It’s the only place where there is peace and quiet. By that, I mean nobody talks to me. Except the occasional asshole who thinks I’m taking criticism that day, who will say something like “try less weight and control it more.” It’s always someone telling you to use less weight. Guy, if I wanted a fucking trainer I would have signed up for one at the front desk. I’m not trying to be Arnold fucking Schwarzenegger, I’m just trying to blow off steam before a long day of work.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen this sign, but it’s usually right at the front desk of the gym. It tells you how you should dress at the gym. I believe its called a dress code. It tells you what you should and shouldn’t wear. Despite that sign specifically telling you what you can wear in the specific establishment, people still manage to fuck it up. But regardless of the sign, I just feel like its common sense what you should and shouldn’t wear.

“Boots, sandals, and those fucking weird toe shoes”

I will never understand how the fuck people wear boots to the gym. Are you working out in the snow? My boots way about 5 pounds each, so why would I drag them around the gym? And the sandals, I mean, these are just self explanatory. Like god forbid you drop a weight on your toe. Actually, if you’re wearing sandals at the gym, I hope you drop a weight on your toe. The weird toe glove shoes, or whatever you want to call them, are just bizarre. You want to wear them that’s fine, but tell me how you are washing the disgustingness out of them every time you wear them.

“Jeans and Cargo Shorts”

Jeans have become more comfortable over the years but why wear them to the gym? I wear the same god damn gym shorts I wore to 7th grade gym class and the dude next to me is working out with a pair of true religion jeans on. If you’re going to wear expensive clothes to the gym, go to Lu Lu Lemon man, they’ll get you all your expensive gym attire. Also, you don’t need to wear cargo shorts to the gym. What are you keeping in those pockets? There must be something I’m missing.

“Basketball Jerseys”

I don’t think that this one is a rule up front, but its just aggravating. Kobe Bryant doesn’t even work out in his basketball jersey, why are you doing bicep curls next to me wearing that jersey? That shit is not fucking comfortable, and you know it, I know it, and so does everyone else.

“Shirt cut all the way down to your hips”

How did you even do that? Did you buy it like that? I just don’t get the point of this one. Good circulation I guess. I hope guys bring back half shirts soon instead, of this shit soon. If I could wear a half shirt, I probably wouldn’t have so much belly button lint.

“Men with spandex”

Take your cock somewhere else.

“Socks up to your thighs”

What is this, the 7th grade? Are you dressing up for school spirit day? I see the same guy wearing these socks almost every day at the gym. I don’t know whether it would be worse if he was wearing the same pair of socks everyday, or if he has that many pairs of long socks.

“Women with make-up on”

I don’t know if this is a misogynistic thing to say or not but what the fuck. This girl at the gym yesterday was wearing a full face of make-up and bright pink eye shadow. I know you’re not wearing the make up for me or whatever, but you look like a clown. I don’t know exactly what a full face of make up really is but my girlfriend told me that’s what it was. I can’t imagine how sweat doesn’t pour that down your face. I got fucking P!nk working out next to me and a white guy wearing a doo rag with pink fucking capris and a black silk vest. Where am I?

But hey, after all, at least we’re all getting healthy. I have a funny feeling that half these guys are throwing the skis on and hitting the slopes hard before they show up to the gym, doing some BOOGERSUGAR, a little of that nose candy if you know what I mean. So, to each their own I guess. But for me, I’m going to stick to my Reebok shorts and ratty t-shirts that I stole from the laundry room in college.

 

What Did You Say to Me?

I find myself asking this question way too often throughout the week. One of my patients will ask me something absolutely outrageous. I work with a lot of dementia patients, so there are some outright outlandish things said throughout the day. Now some people may think it is coarse that I talk about these things, but any kind of dementia is a pretty bleak disease. So, you have to laugh at these things. Not all of the quotes are from dementia patients though. Sometimes I just have people who say or do the craziest shit to me. So, here we go.

“I don’t have coffee before I come here because I drink it then I poop.”

This is what some people might say is a bit too much information. I am a speech-language pathologist. I really don’t need to know anything about your bowel movements. Yet for some reason, people think that if you are a medical provider, they need to tell you anything. It’s all sorts of stuff that people spew but mostly its about their bowel movements.

“Oh fuck yes”

“Whats wrong?” I asked my patient. “My brain is going down,” he responded. “Your brain is going down?” I asked.  “Oh Fuck yes,” he responded. This is my patient describing how his brain feels. This one is a little bit morbid but I felt like I had to include it just because of the way he said it. He was hysterically laughing. telling me that his brain is going “down.” It makes my job somewhat easier when people can laugh about themselves. I have patients with dementia who will constantly be happy to come in and happy they are just alive, and I know this because I ask. Then you get someone who complains the whole time they are in therapy. So, this definitely makes my life slightly easier.

“My dog ate his fucking toe”

My patient had a birthday party and was telling me how his friends came from Florida. Well he kept mentioning how his friend was stuck in a wheelchair because he was paralyzed below the waist. My patient was saying how this guy did everything with them despite being in a wheelchair. Well at the party, apparently there were a lot of people there and it was chaotic. By the end of the night, this man in the wheelchair had passed out in the living room. Guess what, my patient’s dog ate this man’s toe while he was sleeping. Just bit off one of the middle toes, like it was a fucking bacon bit.

“Yeah, two heart attacks”

My patient was talking about his ex-wife. He is constantly talking about her. So, he kept talking about all the food she used to cook. So I said, “she was a good cook?” somewhat rhetorically because I just wanted to keep the conversation going. He responds, “yeah great cook, two heart attacks.” I guess long term cooking skills are determined by how many heart attacks you can give your husband/wife.

“I was a nude show girl”

Next thing I know I’m looking at a picture of my patient from 60 years ago with her tits hanging out. This woman also made the list of quotes with this gem.

“I wouldn’t fuck him for $100, even if I was still working”

She was talking about a doctor who got a little upset when she tried to take her shirt off in the room in front of him. The doctor wanted to wait for a nurse, as to cover his ass while there was a naked woman in the room. It makes sense, but she took it as if the doc thought she was trying to fuck him. Which she made pretty clear, she did not want.

The next few quotes are after an activity I do with my patients called “item function. Its not so much as an activity as its me saying, what’s this item do, or I give them a definition and they have to tell me the item.

“I once tried to put stuff in here” *pointing to his ear*

I asked this patient what he does with a spoon, and he pretended to take the spoon and pour it into his ear. To be honest, I’m not sure if he was fucking with me or if he really had no idea.

“Shoes? You usually buy two of them”

I asked this patient to describe shoes to me. The first thing he thought of was that you “usually” buy two, but sometimes if only one is no good, I guess you only get one?

“I use it to shut my wife up.”

“What do you do with scotch tape?” This is the response i got from that question. Old people either love or hate each other. I rarely find anyone in the middle. I asked this guy what he does with scotch tape and he responds with, “I use it to put over my wife’s mouth to shut her up.” 50 years of marriage has its intricacies I guess.

“My dick”

This was an answer to one of my questions. I don’t know if there was a mix up or if maybe in his world, he was right. But, I asked him, “what do you hold in the rain?” and he told me “my dick.” So, apparently he holds his dick in the rain. This guy talks about his dick a bit too much.

“War is when two countries get together and fight each other.”

This simplified version of war seems to be a little bit too similar to how people get together to play poker. But he has a point. “How would you describe war?” Just when two people get together to kill each other. Pretty honest definition if you ask me.

“If I’m bad it’s used as a whip.”

I wish that this was an example of me needing to call someone because they were getting abused. I really do. Because when an 80 year old patient looks at me coyly and says, “If I’m a bad girl it can be used as a whip.” You just sort of lose desire to continue on with the day. But kudos to her for still having a good time with her mans, however they want to do it.

Here is the last and final quote that I’d like to share and honestly this one may be my favorite one of all time.

“I’ve shoved so much coke up my nose before, I don’t know why I can’t do THIS.”

This was said to me as I was trying to stick a scope up someone’s nose. She wasn’t sure why she couldn;t handle the scope when she knew damn well she stuffed enough coke up her nose in the 60’s 70s and 80s, to kill an elephant.

So, for some reason my patients continue to indulge me with these fantastic quotes. Some people might say I’m taking advantage of my patients by exploiting their quotes but fuck those people. If I couldn’t laugh about the morbid shit I deal with everyday, I would be a miserable prick to be around. Instead of that, here ya go folks. Here’s some Saturday morning reading material.

 

 

A Whole New World

So, this is another roommate story that I have yet to tell. I’ve been meeting to put the metaphorical pen to paper for this one, but I just haven’t got around to it. When I moved into a house with these two people, I felt like it was great. I am still friends with one of the two people that I lived with. It isn’t that I just can’t live with people. There’s no way this one was my fault. Living with these people was great. Everyone got along. Our schedules never conflicted. It was beautiful. We even all hung out every once in a while. It wasn’t until May, 4 months after I moved in, that everything went downhill.

I really have no idea how the whole dispute started, but I’m going to do my best to describe this situation in as much detail as I can from my point of view. My two roommates, the homeowner and another renter, were in a fight over something. Who knows what, but shit hit the fan when the homeowner decided he wanted to redo the floors by the bedrooms. For some reason, “the renter,” decided she did not want anyone to open the door to her room to do the floor up to her door.

Now, it’s one thing to not want strangers in your room. I get that. Totally understand. But the landlord was going to be home, supervising the whole thing. It wasn’t as if a bunch of people were going to be in her room going through her shit.

So, in the spirit of keeping me out of this whole thing, one day I came home, and she asked me “hey, can I talk to you about something?” So, here we go. Now, I basically already knew that she was very upset about the whole thing, but I was ready to hear her side of the story now. Usually, I’m a full believer that there are three sides to every story, your side, my side, and the truth. I was pretty sure her side of the story was going to be about as crazy Trump’s last 5 tweets. I was not disappointed. She told me all about how upset she was about the strangers in her room but it wasn’t because of what you would think. She didn’t think her shit was going to be stolen. She didn’t think it would get dirty. No, she told me it was because she didn’t want people stepping on her rug because it had special powers.

Special powers, good vibes, whatever the fuck she called it. I call it crazy. I tried to keep a straight face when she said this, but I couldn’t. I laughed right in her face. I thought she was kidding but apparently, she really thought that. I wish the shit storm stopped here but it doesn’t. I get a text about a month later; I was already moved out of the apartment. She texted me and asked me if I threw out her graduation flowers. I really didn’t know how to answer because I wasn’t sure. If there were dead flowers sitting in our kitchen I probably threw them the fuck out. I told her that and she gave me some sarcastic answer about how I should remember whether I threw out flowers or not. I apologized and said “sorry but throwing out flowers is not a significant memory in my brain.” 

I can’t imagine thinking that I would give a shit if someone threw out my flowers. Especially, because after she graduated she left the city for a week. Did she expect someone to take care of her beloved graduation flowers? I’m not too sure. I probably never would’ve wrote about this if she didn’t accuse me of maliciously throwing flowers away. After she did that, I had to write about my disdain towards her. Flowers… give me a break.  

I think about it, and I wonder if I’m the bad roommate. Am I the one who can’t be lived with? Am i better off living in a studio apartment alone? Should people not live with me? Then I remember that I don’t really give a shit. I especially don’t give a shit about her flowers. Whether I did or did not throw them out, I’ll never know. I do wish I could take a ride on her magic carpet. Maybe see a whole new world? Some shining shimmering splendor? The whole deal. 

When you decide to live in someone else’s home or apartment, just remember that it’s not your fucking house. Just like when you live with your mom and dad there are rules. Like don’t leave dead plants in the kitchen for a week. Don’t park your friend’s car in the garage without permission, and definitely don’t expect anyone to give a shit about your magic carpet. This is real life folks, not a fucking Disney movie, so get over yourselves.

Fact or Myth: Karma

I don’t know if it’s just the cynic in me, but I have a really hard time staying positive about the world. You want to see the best all the time but you can’t. Day after day the disappointment is unreal. You try to do the right thing but they just keep on pushing you down. Let me explain a little bit more in depth, the outrageousness of my Friday night.

It all starts with just wanting a slice of pizza. That’s all I wanted. I actually wanted two slices of pizza. Nothing crazy. I didn’t even want to try and find a sicilian slice. I just wanted two slices of pizza. Is that too much to ask? There are two places in this town that serve pizza by the slice. So, its about 7PM and I get my dog and get her in the car. We’re off to get pizza.

I get to the first place I walk in and the kid says, “what can I do to help you?” I tell him, “I’ll take two slices.” He says, “okay, hold on.” The guy goes in the back for two minutes. He comes back out and says, “We’re done serving slices for the night.” I respond, “what?” He says, “yeah, we’re done serving slices tonight.” I said, “you’re still open right?” He goes, “Yeah, I can make you a large pie if you want.” I said, “no, I don’t need a large pie, I need two slices,” turned around and walked out before the kid could spew anymore bullshit. So, I get back in my car and head to another pizzeria.

I get to the next place and I walk in. I stand there for three minutes before anyone even acknowledges me. Finally, the guy says “what can I do for you?” I say “I’ll take 2 slices to go.” This guy says, “we don’t have slice after 4.” I don’t even look at the guy. but I turn around and start walking out and I say loud enough for everyone to hear, “why even call yourself Joey’s NEW YORK pizza, if you don’t have a slice to go.” The taste of NY pizza isn’t the only good part. It’s the convenience of walking in and choosing whatever slice you want and having it, in under 5 minutes.

At this point, I’m devastated. I’m hungry and I’m pissed off. So, I decide to head home and see what’s in the kitchen. I get home and see this guy moving into the apartment right underneath mine. Thinking about karma and just trying to be an overall nice guy, I ask, “hey man, you need any help?” expecting to get the typical “nah, thanks though.” He says, “Yeah, we could finish up in 5 minutes if you can help.” So, I do the right thing and I bring my dog upstairs and start helping this guy out. Forty-five minutes later we’re carrying dressers into the apartment. Finally we’re done and it’s now 9:15. The guy asks what he owes me and I jokingly responded, “Just don’t ever say New Yorker’s are douche bags.” He takes me way too seriously and starts saying how he never thought that. Which reminded me my sarcasm doesn’t transfer well to others.

So, I go back up to my apartment and I get ready to call this Acai Bowl place because Marisa wanted one for dinner and I’ve never had one. I call this place, which is the only place within 15 minutes of the apartment. It’s 9:20 and they close at 10 according to their website. The guy answers and says, “Tail and Fin, how can I help you?” I tell him I want to place an order for pick up and he responds, “Oh, we’re closing up.” I look at the phone and say, “It’s only 9:20 and you close at 10.” He tells me, “Yeah we started closing at 9 tonight.” I ask him rhetorically, “then why even bother having a closing time?” and hang up the phone.

I’m livid. I’m starving and now it’s not even worth eating until Marisa gets home. She gets in at 10 and we decide to go to this restaurant called Pizza Rock. People rant and rave about this restaurant here. So, figured we’d try it. We ordered meatballs, a pizza and a calzone. I can eat basically anything when I’m hungry but this food was garbage. Hambuger helper makes better meatballs. The slice of pizza was smaller than my hand. The pepperoni was so over cooked it was curling up, like it had been microwaved. The calzone had maybe one slice of cheese in it. I prayed to god that the bartender asked how the calzone was so I could respond with, “Have you ever had a calzone before?”

It was so disappointing to be that hungry and have just horrible food in front of you. I honestly couldn’t believe it. After all this, I couldn’t help but think about how karma is a made up thing. You do the right thing and then this is how the world takes care of you. Real nice. My brain is screaming “SERENITY NOW!” as we drive home. I say to Marisa, “There’s no way this night could get worse. I guess it could rain, at least we have that going for us.”

We go home and decide we’ll hangout and watch some TV. Maybe have a drink and try to enjoy the rest of our night. But it did rain that night folks. The clouds were angry that day my friends. We get home and upon further examination of our dog. She seemed to have ripped out her stitches from her surgery that she had a couple days ago. Yep, she had a huge gaping wound on her arm now. How much better could this night get?

I now had to leave the house to go to the store to get all sorts of bandages to clean the wound and wrap it, because obviously the vet is closed at 12 at night. I’m not upset about having to do this. I’m just pissed off that the vet didn’t put a cone on the dog so she wouldn’t do that in the first place. So, here I am, Mr. Vincent, wrapping a dog’s wound at 12:30 at night. I thought about posting a picture of the wound here too, but it’s a bit graphic. Now here I am sitting next to this Sweet Tart we call Effie, while she pants and smiles at me like it’s a wonderful life were living. Which I guess she’s right. Despite getting surgery twice in 3 days, she’s still sitting here, happy as a pig in shit, waiting for me to stop typing so that I’ll pet her. Just a little thing about karma people, it doesn’t exist. Everything doesn’t always “even out” for everybody, trust me. For example, I haven’t won a single bet all year. I don’t see that turning around anytime soon nor do I see the stupid shit that happens to me on a daily basis turning around anytime soon. So, despite all the bullshit, I wake up, put a smile on, and try the day all over again. No one is going to throw good luck upon me. Trust me, make your own karma, because no one is sitting anywhere thinking about you saying, “how can I make this unlucky jerk-offs life any different?” Only you can do that. When life shits on you, pop open your umbrella, throw on your boots, and weather the storm. 

 

It’s the Most Basic Time of The Year

It’s that time of year again. Every basic bitch has a pumpkin spice latte, a punny caption featuring the season, and a picture with a pumpkin they obviously carved with a stencil and yet so slyly leave that detail out. People start busting out there terrible scary movies and cuddling up to shit themselves and cover their eyes for an hour and 45 minutes. The ridiculous desserts and Autumn based foods make there way to the forefront. People stock their homes with gourds (who knows what the purpose of these disgusting growths actually are), nuts, leaves, and pinecones. Fall is a beloved season for most. Out here in the wild west, there really is no such thing as fall being that there are no leaves to even change color. Don’t get me wrong, I love a sugared up pumpkin flavored latte just like the rest of you shmucks. I’m even a sucker for some fall desserts. I’m as basic as they come. One thing, that I will never understand is the scary movies.

I’ll never forget the first scary movie I had ever seen. Of course it was the exorcist. Naturally, I’m scarred for life. Now when I say I watched this movie, what I mean is that I saw three seconds of it. I was at my friend Chris’s house for a sleepover in the 6th grade. It was me, him, and our friend Will. I was playing PlayStation while they were watching the movie. I wasn’t even watching, but I could obviously hear it. I looked over for three seconds at the scene where that little bitch pisses herself in front of all those people and I lost it. I had to go home in the middle of the night from a sleepover. I don’t think I cried, but I might as well have at that point. After that movie, I never really understood why people liked scary movies.

I still, to this day, do not like scary movies. I hate them. I’m still afraid to go to the bathroom in the dark after seeing the Amityville Horror House. I don’t like showering at night when no one else is home, and I’m literally afraid of the dark. Who isn’t afraid of the dark? You literally can’t see anything. You don’t know if that little Chuckie fucker is standing there waiting to stab you in the stomach.

The worst type of scary movie is the type with the scary little girls. I don’t know what it is about a screwed up looking 11 year old girl, but that shit is without a doubt the scariest. The Exorcist, The Ring, The Shining, etc. I can’t even stand to think about them.

The most recent scary movie I saw was It, with my girlfriend. This was the first scary movie we had seen together. Probably the first scary movie I have seen in a movie theater since high school. Prior to leaving, I yelled back to Marisa, grab my hat, my head gets cold in movie theaters. Obviously, I was just going to use my hat to shield my eyes from this terrifying demon shit. The movie wasn’t as creepy as other scary movies that ruined nights of sleep for me, but I still spent about 75% of the movie covering, or getting ready to cover, my eyes. After the movie, Marisa called me out on the whole hat thing. Which she undoubtedly knew about the second I asked for my hat. I got my scary movie fix for the year now. I don’t think I need to do another one.

Honestly, you can keep your Fall bullshit. Keep your pumpkin flavored everything, keep your apple cider donuts, keep your fall flavored candles and keep your scary movies. If I can’t go the season without getting coerced to see a scary movie than you can even keep my birthday. I’ll wait for Christmas. I’ll wait for Christmas movies, Christmas music, and halls decked with motherfreakin holly before I ever get dragged back in to the theaters to see another scary movie. Keep your thanksgiving turkey, I’ll take Christmas Lasagna. Screw your pumpkins, I’ll wait for cheesecakes and presents under the tree. I’ll take a warm fire over a pumpkin patch that smells like cow shit. I’ll take snow over rain. And I will sure as hell take Chevy Chase, Kevin McCallister ,and Buddy the Elf over Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, and those freaky little bitches in The Shining.

Being A Yankee Fan

People hate the Yankees. It’s no surprise with the amount of money the team pays out to some of the greatest players there ever were. I get that we are never really going to be “underdogs” with the salary we have, but to me, it sure as hell feels like it. One side of my family roots for the Met’s and the other roots for the Yankees. I’ve grown up feeling the hate they had watching the Yankees win pennant after pennant. The good part about living in New York was just that. Although half of the New Yorkers hated the Yankees, the other half loved them.

Being outside of New York, I now realize everyone hates the Yankees. There is no half of the population out here that likes the Yankees. I was at the bar last night and felt the reality of this when I walked in with my Yankees hat and Bronx Bombers t-shirt. I was heckled within an 5 minutes of being inside the bar. One guy immediately started chastising me as soon as I walked in. The guy is telling me, “the Yankees don’t belong here,” “Aaron Judge isn’t an MVP with all these strikeouts,” and “They’re lucky the ump is calling all these strikes.” I wanted to tell the guy, “listen you fuck, the Yankees are here in the ALCS with the other team, what the fuck do you mean they don’t belong here?” Instead I just said, “oh yeah? Where’s your team?” To which he replied “waiting for your to play in the World Series.” Okay sir, you may have got me here, but I’ll get you back. Mark my words.

Another guy came over to me and actually whispered in my ear and said “the Yankees suck.” This one just really creeped me out. I’m not sure why he felt like he needed to whisper this in my ear. This guy had to be at least 50 years old. It just seemed like an odd way of expressing your feelings toward my team choice.

Most of the bar was rooting for the Astros. Actually, let me rephrase that. Most of the bar was rooting AGAINST the Yankees. People were yelling and screaming about it. The only guy who was rooting for the Yankees was this guy who was seemingly annoyed by the first man who was heckling me.

This man was very drunk by the end of the game, and got really fired up when the Yankees lost. He put his arm around my shoulder like we were friends and continued reaming into me. So, finally I was about to get my revenge. His wife was visibly pissed off about how drunk he was. He was at that point of belligerency where you don’t care about the amount of trouble you’re going to be in the morning. Nothing seems to matter except trying not fall over. He was cooked. Roasted. Toasted. Lit up like a Christmas Tree. His wife was trying to drag him out of the bar and it was clear he didn’t want to leave but he was about to cave. So, I baited him right in front of his wife. So, like any good New Yorker, I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. I through my arm around his shoulder, yelled to the bartender, “two shots of Jameson,” and watched the hilarity ensue. She starts hollering at him and tried to grab his keys. That’s when they really got into a fight. She pointed at him and said, “don’t you take that shot.” I looked at her, looked back at him, clinked glasses and watched him down his shot. She grabbed his keys and stormed out. I looked at the guy next to me and smiled. I’m fairly certain he knew how diabolical this was. You may have won game 6, but enjoy sleeping on the couch asshole.

So, to all the Yankee haters, keep fueling the fire. The Yankees have won 27 World Series being the most hated team in America and they’re only going to win more. I want to thank the good lord for making me a Yankee [fan]. So, while your team enjoys golf the Bronx Bombers go back to work tonight. Let’s go Yankees!

Office Etiquette

If you have ever worked in an office, no matter how big or small, you know there are  unwritten rules that you should observe. If you have just began working in an office, then please listen very carefully for the safety of your coworkers. These following rules can make or break your career.

  1. Saying Hello: There is 1, maybe 2 times, when this word should come out of your mouth. That time is in the morning. Saying hello several times to people is not necessary in an office environment where you may run into the same person 20 times. One hello in the morning will suffice, and maybe one in the afternoon if someone is returning from lunch. But otherwise, use your ‘hellos’ sparsely.
  2. Personal Belongings: It has come to my attention, that in an office environment, people take whatever they want without asking. If it is in my office, don’t fucking touch it, unless I tell you too. Leave my phone charger right where it is. In general it doesn’t seem like people will steal an entire lunch anymore, but people feel that snacks are fair game. Just because I left it in the kitchen, doesn’t make it yours. Leave my Cheetos alone.
  3. Clothing: Take off the fucking hat you big jerk. Hats are made for outside. They are to protect your stupid head from getting any more damage than is clearly already done. Do not wear a hat in an office. Also, if you’re a man or a woman, do not show your toes. Unless you are a life guard, you should have your disgusting toe cheese in a shoe of some sort. Nobody wants to look at your toes all day. Nobody wants to smell your toes all day.
  4. Birthdays: Everything Elaine Benis has ever said about birthdays is 100% correct. There should be one day of the year where you celebrate everyone’s birthday, this way there isn’t a cake every other week or month. Also, if you work in a small office, you probably struggle with whether or not you should get someone a birthday present. One of the secretaries asked me what I was getting the other secretary for her birthday. I had no idea because we had never done that before. Then I thought, “I better get her something because my birthday is the day after hers and if she gets me something I’ll look like a jerk.” So, I just picked her up some flowers. I came in to work and gave them to her. Ten minutes later she handed me 14 bucks cash. In the words of Elaine again, “Cash!?!?!” Yes, it was 14 bucks cash. I obviously couldn’t try to give it back, even though obviously I was the one who made her feel bad by getting flowers. Should’ve just stuck to my guns and got nothing. Learned my lesson though. Never getting anyone a gift now. Especially, because the flowers were only $5.
  5. Religion and Politics: Just please, please, keep it to yourself. It may seem like everyone has the same beliefs as you, but that may be false. Actually, it’s probably false. Remember that you might have to work with these people for years. Wars have been started over religion and politics. It doesn’t do an office environment well. It pressures people and makes people uncomfortable. Believe whatever you want, just talk about it the other 128 hours a week that you aren’t at work.
  6. Your Baggage: Just like when you start dating a new person you should dump your baggage, when you go to work you should leave your baggage home. The office is a place of business. Some people just want to do their jobs and go home. The office isn’t your therapy center nor am I you therapist. We all listen because we don’t want to do something rude, like walk away, and then have to continue working with you. I hate crying. It makes me extremely uncomfortable. So, if you do start crying I will probably just walk away. I have done it before and I will do it again. I’m not saying I want to walk into the office and do as little as possible and leave. I’m saying SOME people show up to work and work very hard. They care about their job very much. They want to come to work and do their job because they care about it. Something they don’t care about, is you and your feelings.
  7. The Kitchen: The kitchen should not look like your kitchen at home. It should not be a fucking disaster of unwashed, crusty, dishes. Clean up after yourself. That doesn’t mean just fill your bowl with water and leave it there. It certainly doesn’t mean that you can make oatmeal and leave the dirty dish in the sink with water because it’s “soaking.” Wash the goddamn bowl and scrub it hard if you have to. If you don’t have a kitchen sink, definitely don’t leave a dirty dish in the bathroom near or in the sink. People shit in the bathroom all day long. That means that the food bowl, whether it belong to the office or you, is sitting there getting covered in feces dust.
  8. Leaving the Office: Here’s one that I’m guilty of and maybe a lot of other people who are new to the workforce are guilty of. People probably don’t care about your job. Unless you’re an astronaut, people don’t want to hear about it. Whether you’re a teacher, a stock broker, or even the president. Nobody cares what you do. Just do your job right so the world keeps spinning. I’m trying to work on not talking about work once I leave work. Nobody cares about your job because nobody is familiar with what you do. Even if they are, they probably don’t want to hear you complain about teaching 27 little brats went or how many solar panels you put up today. Unless you meet someone who does the same thing as you, keep the work talk to a minimum. There are plenty of other things you could be talking about.
  9. After Work Events: I get that it’s important that after work events are important for team building and camaraderie. It’s good to socialize with the people you work with so that the work environment is more comfortable. The line has to be drawn somewhere though. Like I’ll go to happy hour with you, but I don’t want to go out dancing with you. I’ll have a pot luck with you, but I don’t want to do coke off of a strippers ass with you. I’ll go to the bowling alley with you, but I won’t go on a 3 -day vacation with you to a Shakespeare Festival. Yes, I was asked to go to a Shakespeare Festival. Despite not wanting to go because most plays I have seen I haven’t liked  and because, well, it’s a Shakespeare Festival, I was going to bite the bullet and go. Luckily it fell through and it seemed like people stopped talking about it. So, keep the work events within a few miles of the job and don’t push it.
  10. Shittin’ on the Job: First off, keep it to yourself. Don’t inform the office about what you are going to do. Second, I don’t know how people go in public places. On one hand, I want to hover, but on the other hand I want to be comfortable. I also don’t want to waste my time making a toilet paper toilet cover. I just want to go in peace. My ultimate goal in life would be to have a private bathroom. That’s all a someone can ask for. I know with my career path that it’s very unlikely. But who knows.  Maybe I’ll get lucky and find an unused hidden bathroom somewhere. That would be equally as good as a private bathroom if not better. Only I would know about it, and every time I went, I would have to be stealthy, so as not to invite others to bask in my discovery.

So, there you have it. Here are just some rules of the trade for those of you just joining the workforce. If you’ve been part of the workforce and you’re failing to abide by these, please take a look at yourself. Either you’re doing it on purpose to be spiteful, or you really need to think about your behavior. Either way, get with the program. People don’t have time for your nonsense. Should we be following any other rules in the workplace? Probably tons more, I think ten is a good start, so if you think of any others please share.