Beach Couples

If you have to go to the beach with another person with whom you are involved (either romantically or somewhat less so), know that I’m watching. I’m watching and I’m judging and I’m sorting you into one of the following two groups…

Beach Couple A:  These people couldn’t be pried off each other with whatever tool you use to pry people off each other. They lay on a blanket, holding hands. They go out into the water together. They embrace when the water gets up to mid-chest level. They’re having conversations you’ll never hear. (Did I just see tongue? I definitely saw… Wow. I didn’t know people’s mouths could open that far. Damn, that’s pretty sexy. They’re really… I wonder if they’re going to… Huh.) They don’t even know you’re there. They walk along the shore, hand in hand, and are oblivious to you, the world, and THE BIG DEAD FISH THAT’S RIGHT BY THE DUDE’S FOOT OHMYGOODNESS WHY CAN’T HE SEE IT EWWWW…

Beach Couple #2:  You think they showed up in the same car because they have carried the collective equivalent of two people’s beach junk to the same spot. They walk along the shore, but he’s five steps ahead of her (note that if he was behind her, that’s a totes different story because he’s admiring her assssets). They may go into the water at the same time, but no physical contact takes place. They talk, but it’s pretty much only about the weather. Additionally (wtf), the dude is very aware of every woman within his field of vision. Maybe they’re brother and sister?

Discuss.

Yes, the couples are A and #2, but that’s largely because I had some beer. I’m not going to go back and fix it now because I honestly think it’s funny. That may also be due to the beer. Whatever.

So it’s completely reasonable to assume that Couple A has just gotten together, are on their honeymoon, or are out on a super-hot (and/or super-drunk) date. Also, Couple #2 is probably either out on the worst and/or most awkward first date ever or they’ve been married for a really long time and kinda sorta (okay, totally) hate each other.

A sub-par Couple A can become Couple #2 after a period of time (and believe me, the other meaning of the term “#2” is not lost here), but a couple that’s #2 ain’t gonna become A.

Okay, here comes a difficult admission for me (again, thanks, beer), but sometimes there are completely ugly couples who qualify for Couple A status. (NOTE:  That’s great and all, but don’t, like, reproduce or anything. That’s gross.) For some reason, ugly people pair up and, like, go outside. And they get on each other. And we all shudder and cry and hide the eyes of our children because holy hell, why did these people think that the rest of us should see them in the bright, unforgiving light of day?!

Attractive people (and attractive couples) vs. uggos (and pairs of uggos). More on this to come.

Advertisements

Idiot Husbands and Eggs

If you have to be around that one couple who truly has no business being together, consider that one or both of them might not know any better.

Do you have one of those friends who’s always with the wrong guy? You joke and say that Yolanda “really knows how to pick ’em” and wonder how she doesn’t see that her husband Jeff and her ex Mike are, like, totally the same person. How does she not realize it’s all going to end up the same way it did when she and Tom broke up? It’ll all be for the same reasons.

Learned helplessness is when a subject has stopped trying to escape an an adverse condition or stimulus because it has been forced to deal with it for so long.

Yolanda doesn’t want to be miserable in her relationships. She’s not seeking out guys who all have the same problem. That’s just all she knows. In her current relationship, she married her husband because she stopped trying to find something different. She thinks all guys are the same. It’s like she has found 309 different ways to cook an egg, but she won’t (or can’t) acknowledge that she could do something else entirely with the egg–like dye it, or bake a cake, or (even better) throw it at Jeff’s stupid, fat face.

It’s gonna be an interesting day when Yolanda figures out something else to do with her eggs.

This story was inspired by all the awkward couples I saw (and the omelet I ate) at breakfast this morning.

Good Morning, Sunshine

If you have to talk to me before 10 AM, please know that I am under no contractual obligation to be full of sunshine and fucking rainbows.

If you think you’re on the very short list of people who will get a positive response from me regardless of the hour, I encourage you to try me.* Expect, however, that I will match your perkiness with vitriol. You may cry.

* The author of this blog cannot and will not be responsible for her actions which result from being poked, prodded, taunted, vexed, ired, annoyed, bothered, or otherwise disturbed by any party.