If you have to compliment someone on their appearance, make sure you’re on the same attractiveness plane as the person you’re complimenting.
Okay, I’m just gonna say it. If an attractive person says another attractive person is attractive, it seems a lot more earnest and honest than if some uggo says the same. By the same token, if a very attractive person says that an uggo is attractive, it sounds all pandery and ridiculous.
It’s like when a person with the IQ of a potato comments on how brilliant someone is because they were able to count out change at the supermarket. *eye roll* Clearly, Potato Man has a low threshold for being impressed by intelligence.
The take home message here, kids, is to make sure you’re not insulting someone by complimenting their attractiveness. Thanks.
If you have to go–by yourself–to a hardware store or a home improvement warehouse superstore or some sort of Depot of Home things, make sure you have the requisite penile organ to escape the experience with your sanity and your pride intact.
I’m a girl. (Okay, I’m a woman, but I am totally a girl. You know what I mean.) Going to a hardware store shouldn’t be a traumatic experience, but it always is for me. I can’t help that I appear terrified and lost. I mean, the place has, like, 200 foot ceilings, the smuggest-looking employees in the world, and 25 different places where a particular item could or should be.
Completely Hypothetical Example: I need a new twisty knob thing for my shower that turns the water on. I’m actually walking around the store with the broken one in my left hand. Is it in Bath, Plumbing, or Hardware?! Why are all the dipshit employees named Jason and why are they looking at me with the same look of condescension I give women who wear capri pants? How is it that I’ve walked down the same aisle three times? Why is a customer asking me if I need help? Where are all the orange-vested Jasons? Where do I pay for this thing? Why is the parking lot so big? WHERE DID I PARK MY CAR?!
I figured out why the parking lot is so big. I literally needed that five minutes driving across the lot to decompress before I got back out on the road.
So damn you, Jason. Also, the other Jason. And all your little Jason friends.
If you have to work in an office for 8+ hours a day, there are certain things you should and should not do in order to maintain a happy and healthy work environment.
- Clean up your messes. No one wants to clean your used coffee mug you put in the sink. Have you seen you? You’re disgusting. No one wants to be exposed to your saliva.
- Keep your voice at an appropriate volume while speaking on the phone. Be quiet enough so people can’t hear every word, but just loud enough so people feel somewhat sneaky when they eavesdrop.
- Hang up enough crap on the walls of your cubicle/office that it looks like someone works there, but not so much clutter that one can’t determine the color of said walls.
- Start another pot of coffee when you finish the one that’s there. …It’s called human decency.
- Heat broccoli in the break room microwave. When the smell of broccoli meets the scent of copiers, it smells like inky, stinky feet. Eat your broccoli cold or keep it out of the office.
- Print every single one of your emails (in color!) to a public printer and then leave them there for hours and then reprint them and then get all mad when I put them in the shred bin. Holy crap, Devin. Show some respect for yourself and others and the printer and trees and the earth and my sanity.
- Talk about childbirth or your gall bladder or your sex life or any of the wonders of your many and varied bodily functions. Not only does no one want to have a conversation with you about it, no one wants to inadvertently overhear any of that shit, either. Not at work, not at home, and not on your personal time. Actually, your so-called “friends” don’t even like you. They tired long ago of hearing about what keeps you regular, Tammy. Keep it to yourself.
- Eat apples at your desk. Ostensibly the most disgusting thing in the world is the crunch-and-slop sound you make when you’re chawing on an apple.
- Use the Reply to All button (unless you’ve earned your certification). Upon completion of the required courses, you can put the letters NAF (Not A Fuckwad) after your name on your business cards! …Imagine… Barry Jones, NAF. (Just kidding. We all know Barry and Lisa can’t resist replying to all 87 times about his damn zucchini bread. Every year.)
If you have to ask the question of whether or not you and I can be friends, I’ve composed a few basic questions you can ask yourself (and score) before bothering me with your inane request for friendship.
- Do you have an iPhone? If no, don’t bother me. I have neither the patience nor the time for you and your Android bullshit.
- Friends or Seinfeld? The correct answer is yes.
- Do you drink wine? Okay, you don’t have to know the difference between a Cabernet Sauvignon and a Pinot Noir, but you do have to be open to drinking it. Or else.
- Where would you rather hang out–the beach or a driving range? Either or both are perfectly acceptable, actually.
- Do you use your turn signal in a roundabout? If you do, go hang out with the Android people who were eliminated by question #1.
These are just the basics–the fundamental building blocks upon which any good friendship is based.
If you have to talk about politics, do it in your car. When you’re by yourself. With the windows rolled up.
In general, I don’t talk about politics. In specific, I never fucking talk about politics. Trumpeting your political views is one of the quickest ways to make my eyes glaze over. Really, all you’re doing is telling me about your feelings. I don’t actually have feelings, so hearing about yours irritates me. The overarching problem is that people are too emotional to actually hold a conversation in which there is any discussion about politics.
Political discourse digs at the very core of human nature. To remove the passion and the emotion from the conversation is impossible, so it’s my position that discussing politics should be outlawed because the interpretation of facts is skewed by one’s political leanings.