Archive | January, 2014

Between Beer Pong and Babies

13 Jan

It’s hard to party in your late 20’s. You’re too old for clubs, too tired from work, and too bored for bars. House parties would be fun if more people danced, and dinner parties would be awesome if there weren’t babies there. Yes, human babies. This is starting to happen in my life and I’m not down.

Babies are the new age beer pong. They are both the unnecessary focal point of a party. Beer pong in the wrong hands, and in the wrong environment is poison. The game has a bro tractor beam, which would be great if all the terrible people at a party were somehow sucked into vortex and rendered speechless the rest of the night, but this is not the case. Good people are sucked into the vortex as well, and so they stand there with hands in pockets muttering, “who’s got next?” The competitors at the table are a complete mess and are elevated to momentary celebrity status as the pong-less peasants hang on their every word, “Lemme get a re-rack bitch!” Lolz. Classic.

beer pongBabies are harder to hate so passionately. They can sometimes be funny for like a minute. Otherwise, they are the worst guests ever. They cry, scream, slobber and fall asleep everywhere. Imagine you invite an adult to your house, and he or she shows up crying, spits everywhere on your floor, makes a couple incomprehensible noises while flailing his limbs and then passes out. You might laugh for a second, but ultimately I would hope you call 911 and never talk to them again. You would ask this person to leave, and so I am asking babies to kindly leave.

babyBabies are also huge cockblocks. Everything they do in public is applauded and cheered. They are the party show-off you can’t call a dick, cause everyone will call you a dick for calling a baby a dick. Baby dick. There is no competing and it frustrates me to no end.

So I remain in purgatory. I’m too cripplingly self-aware to throw balls in cups of shitty beer, and too immature to start a family, but I still want to party. If you are ever bored, shoot me a text sometime and we can kick it in limbo together until our moms tell us they really, really want grandkids.

Tags: , , , , ,

Sorry, I’m Bad With Names

8 Jan

bad with namesThere is no sweeter sound in language than the sound of our own name. We are pack animals, we crave community and inclusion, and so it baffles me why we choose to deny each other of this satisfaction.

This may come across as petty or megalomaniacal, but forgetting someone’s name and then telling that person the reason you forgot their name is because you are “bad” with names is a kin to a middle finger to the face, a punch to the gut, and a sign that meaningful human interaction will only continue to get more difficult as excuses like this are so readily accepted. Some may suffer an even more unforgivable fate when not only is their name forgotten, but also the entire prior meeting is brought into question.

Now clearly there are some grey areas to my Mr. Manners manifesto. Sometimes when you are introduced to a large group of people all at once it can be overwhelming, and unless you have a mnemonic device prepared, chances are you will forget a few names here and there. My qualms with the accused are aimed at those whom I have met on multiple occasions, and appear to have been stricken with amnesia since the last time we spoke. Yes, sometimes names veer from the norm and can be difficult to pin down, such is the case with foreigners and those returning from spiritual quests who wish to now be known as Nalgene, but weirdos are people too.

This is not freshmen orientation on the quad. You are not a world-class entertainer who gets whisked from one social event to the next meeting hundreds of people every day. You presumably have a fully functioning brain with the capacity to remember things like I do, so what is it? You don’t like me? Have I not made a lasting impression on you? No, that can’t be, I’m fucking fantastic and you know it. Smack the gloss from your weary eyes, and put down Tinder long enough to make a connection with me.

This is an important and coveted life skill. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and remember someone for once, I dare you. Greet them with their name confidently and watch the expression on their unsuspecting face. They will light up and be so damn impressed. That’s how rare it is these days. I often hear objections in the media, and amongst my friends that things like Facebook and smart phones are not bringing us closer together, but are in fact tearing us apart. There is no doubt in my mind that this is true, but the real concern is if anyone really cares. Remembering a name will not bring back landlines or crash faceboook’s servers, but it goes a long way in creating an inclusive community we all crave. So next time someone tells you, “Sorry, I’m bad with names,” let them know they should be, because it’s a real shame.

Tags: , , , , , ,