Hello again, everyone! I humbly welcome y’all back for Part 2 of this ongoing series that takes a humorous look at some not-so-acceptable social norms that we’ve all had the unfortunate pleasure of being on the awkward receiving end of. I hope that by reading this, as before, you may empathize with some scenario here, and possibly even dare I say ‘smile’ from it. As always, your comments are more than welcome—good or bad—and I hope this makes you chuckle out there as you know that someone else out there has had that same WTF moment as you. With that enjoy, and happy Tuesday. Oh and for the record? I still have no idea how the girls liked the Yorkie Pudding.
Extremely-Over-The-Top-PDA
I’m sure we’ve all seen this couple before at a restaurant, at a park, or (ahem) at a movie. They take holding hands and the occasional kiss to the extremes of crotch-groping, panty-rubbing, and full-on public make-out sessions where you wonder which one of them just returned home from war. What’s more is that I’m sure we’ve all also hung out once or twice with this couple at a party or some other ‘hey-let’s be-social-butterflies’ type event where they’re far busier with their conspicuous coitus than they are with carrying casual conversation. I’ll even bear my own skeletons and say that I’ve been a willing member of the public-boo-love-club at said restaurants, parks, and when at the um…ahem…movie theatre (Oh like I’m the ONLY person reading this who has a guilty smirk streaking across my grill as I look back on my wild adolescent years with regard to the movies—the place where minds and hands wander). However like most of you when I did the super-kissy-koo-thing, the birthday on my driver’s license was a LOT closer in the rear-view mirror than it is now, and I didn’t have an actual rear-view-mirror….or CAR for that matter…to go with said license. The rule of thumb here then, comrades, is that all is well and good when you’re 14 sneaking to the movies for your first hook-up, but when you’re in that twenty-five to thirty-something range…and at a wedding, a new years’ party, or your little brother’s birthday barbecue (you laugh, but I’ve seen that movie before), then please skip the junior varsity antics and act like you’ve been there before. That’s not to say that a little flirting with your mate at an event is necessarily a bad thing. The dirty devil is in the details, as a subtle smirk coupled with a slightly raised eyebrow, a little upper-thigh rub under the dinner table, the classic ‘lip-bite’ as you stare at him in the eye or my favorite—the direct ‘I can’t wait to get you home’ whispered in the ear is MORE arousing than the blatant boob grab or noticeably novice necking. Oh, and by the way...the relative restraint always, always, ALWAYS leads to incredibly amazing sex later that night. If it doesn’t, well…then to quote a certain movie…h/she’s just not that into you.
Last name Sodoo, Middle name I., First name MineIsBetter
Stop me if this scene sounds somewhat familiar or at least remotely similar to one that you’ve had: You’re at a party and you’re in the corner with a couple of your besties, perhaps someone that you just met, and we’ll even throw in an old friend or two that you haven’t seen in a long time. You take a swig of your wine and in between bites of the Christmas cookies or other hors d’oeuvre that you’ve been housing all night long on the ducky, someone asks you about that new promotion you just got, that trip you took to Jamaica last winter, where you got your sweet watch from, or about that killer dress you decided to rock tonight. Seemingly harmless questions, right? Nope, Daniel-San, that’d be WRONG since now as you begin to answer the question ‘that guy’ walks up. This person by the way isn’t gender specific, as ‘that guy’ can be the douche bag that you kind of know from work or a friend of a friend...of a friend, or that ‘See-You-Next-Tuesday’ that you haven’t seen since college from your softball team or your sorority. Either way one thing here is absolutely certain: You. Hate. This. Bitch. I’m talking Hatfield-hates-Mc Coy type of hate. If you saw this cat on the side of the road, you’d downshift from 6 to 4—even though you’re already doing 80—and floor it past them. You know that no matter what you say out of your mouth one of two things are going to happen—either this person is going to totally take a gloriously gleeful and smelly dump all on your trip to Jamaica by talking about his MONTH-LONG trip around Europe, complete with pictures OR they’re going to agree the absolute living Jesus out of you and pretty much co-sign everything you say as if she was Ben Franklin to your John Hancock. Either way, cuz: that trip that you were contemplating thumping your chest about, the watch you were about to expound upon, or that curve-accentuating dress that costs more than you'd normally afford but got a great deal on…is now about to make like Chris Cuttan's post-SNL career and become a complete and total afterthought. First of all, before I continue…if you’re racking you’re memories trying to figure out who ‘that guy’ is and can’t figure it out? Guess what, bub? Look no further than that mirror. So if you are ‘that guy’ then please, for the sake of your own social sanity as well as that pretty jaw of yours or your curly hair that I’m assuming you’re so fond of—I advise you to stop before that ten-year reunion you've got coming up. People don’t like having their stories trashed or co-signed to death. The latter is especially true if you’re one of those what I call 'fourth-cousin' friends. Then again though, since you’re so oblivious to these people’s feelings in crapping on their story or the fact that you’re really not their friend as you slurp up the story, you deserve what you get. Now, for the rest of us normal and considerate folks—here’s how to deal with Wonder One-Up and Super Sidekick: Tell your story with absolute confidence. Screw it—even add in a detail or two: A truth with a few embellishments is always better and more entertaining than a lie with a few truths. If Wonder One-Up tries to cut you off in the middle…become ostentatiously obnoxious and keep talking over him or her. The key here is to not make eye contact with this person AT ALL. Look at the person who asked you the question, as well as everyone else in the group. What this does, gang, is engage everyone in the conversation into you while passively-aggressively cutting out ‘that-guy’. After all, one-uppers without attention are like fires without oxygen—they simply cannot exist. Here’s what’s even more delicious—if the one upper STILL doesn’t get the hint and tries to tell his or her story that’s better than yours? The SECOND you finish up, just make like Katie Holmes and simply walk away. Yup. I said it. Make up some reason why you’re jetting, like a fake phone call or wave to a friend who’s behind him. Either way once you’re gone, their story is pretty pointless. With regard to the sidekick, they’re usually much easier to deal with. Once they start going on about how they agree with you or how they did what you did—call their bluff on the spot. Ask ‘oh really? How was your experience in Punta Cana? Oh really? What did you think about the Pyramids when you walked through them?’ Chances are that this cat’s probably stretching the truth at best or lying through their teeth at worst. When they stumble—and they will—simply laugh at them in a way to let them know ‘yeah…shut the bleep up’ and simply continue your story. Afterall,you're already Batman...and since you're the Chris Nolan version, you ain't in the market right now for a 'Robin'.
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