Holy Mother Of...

Nugs: My birthday is fast approaching, and as the oldest first-born member of Snark & Sex, I'm the first one to leave behind her twenties. I'm also the only one of us that's still so fucking single that the most excitement I just had was mass-texting like 18 people about how I went to opening night of The Hobbit. With my brother. Also my iPhone kept auto-correcting the word "Bilbo."

Ginny: The Shire is back bitches!!

This, of course, does not sit well with my Jewish Mother, who is constantly trying to think of new and interesting ways to lasso me a Baby Daddy. These include:

• online dating
• going to places alone like a creepy stalker
• her friends' sons who happen to live thousands of miles away
• the personals Ginny: Don't do this because I'm afraid you'll be murdered. Nugs: Right there with ya, Gin.
• Star Trek conventions
• trips to the zoo (don't even ask)

What in the... just no.

For those of you of the Jewish persuasion, you know exactly what I'm referring to when I capitalize the terms "Jewish" and "Mother." For those of you who haven't been personally familiarized with this phenomenon, I'm indescribably jealous.

Tits: I'm pretty sure everyone in the world knows what you mean by the term "Jewish Mother." Unless they have been living under a rock and have never caught an episode of the Nanny. I'm pretty sure Nug's could make her own Shit Jewish Mothers Say video.

Nugs: I totally missed the boat on that meme. Much like when you wondered why I didn't get that waiter's phone number instead, I question why I don't yet run all my life decisions through you.

I do, of course, adore my mom- as far as parents go, I definitely hit the jackpot with both of them. However, my Jewish Mother does have the tendency to- should we say- overstep. It's a running joke in my family- if we want the world to know what's going on in our lives, tell Mom not to say anything, and within an hour it will be on the news in at least four continents. I remember one Facebook conversation in particular I had with my brother when he had just started dating his most recent girlfriend and we were debating just how much our Jewish Mother needed to know about the relationship. We finally agreed on "as little as possible" in case Mom decided to buy them matching burial plots.

Tits: This is a totally respectable thing to do. I told my parents about Imac too early and they begged me to bing him to every family function even though we hadn't been dating 3 months. I've managed to hold off all the way till christmas. WINNING. 

Nugs: I love you.

Ginny: My mother offered me a burial plot in Michigan. Why would I want to be buried in Michigan? Sorry, I just had to share that.

Nugs: Our family's is in New Jersey. Again, I state- NEW JERSEY. NOT WINNING.

Anyway, we digress. The following conversation with my brother took place on a Monday between 8pm and 10pm, PST:




Nugs: So what did you lead with? "I'm dating someone" or "she's a lawyer?"
Brother Nugs: Does it matter?
Nugs: Not really. Either way Mom is already blueprinting the sonogram.
Brother Nugs: Also I told Mom she doesn't have Facebook.
Nugs: Does she?
Brother Nugs: Of course she does. Everyone is on Facebook.
Nugs: Ahahaha. Well played.

Nugs: Remember when I dated a Jewish lawyer? After a month she was already drafting wedding invites.
Brother Nugs: Yeah. I remember him. That guy was a douchebag. For some reason Mom really liked him though.
Nugs: Jewish. And lawyer. Although Mom likes anyone who she thinks is going to implant me with their seed.
Brother Nugs: You're definitely next.
Nugs: She's like, "How about that nice kid in the next apartment?" And I'm like, "No Mom. He's 16, and a Klansman."
Brother Nugs: She probably likes that at least he has high-thread count sheets that get frequently washed. You need better excuses.

As with 95% of Jewish Mothers (there was a poll) (Tits: I don't think this needs a poll), my mom gets super excited at the mere mention of a boy even glancing in my general direction because clearly, this means that I'll be married within six months. Unfortunately for her (and me), she often wanders too far into the deep end and leaves me without a pair of floaties. Observe, the Tale of the Attack of the Family Circus, submitted for your approval (or not):



I had just started dating The Subscription (for more on that trainwreck, click this link), and we were supposed to hit up a Halloween party at a local bar. Since we all know how Jazz Hands! I go for Halloween, I had offered to help him pick out his costume; then he would come back later and we would go to the party. That also, coincidentally, happened to be the weekend that my mom was staying with me, so the chances that he and I would finally be getting down were probably pretty marginal. Such is my life. Anyway:

I had briefed my Jewish Mother on the situation and had let her know that while Friday night was Girls' Night, Saturday belonged to my new guy. Apparently my scheduling capabilities weren't enough for her, as this then led to the following exchange:

Jewish Mother: Is he going to come in before you leave so I can meet him?
Nugs: Unquestionably 100 percent no.
JM: Why not?
Nugs: Because I want him to keep liking me.
JM: What is that supposed to mean?
Nugs: Nothing, Mom. I love you. Eat your kugel.

Tits' Sidenote: While I am not Jewish I love me some kugel (even though I always want to pronounce it "quigel") and the only time I ever had it was when my Jewish Freshman roommate's mother sent her back with some from over Thanksgiving. It had pineapples and cheese and was amazing. Anyways this is totally off topic.

Nugs' Sidenote: Kugel is actually one of the only Jewish foods that is not totally disgusting. There's a reason all our edibles have the syllable "ugh" in it. Anyway...

 I met The Subscription at the store, where we debated on what to wear that night. I practically pleaded with him to get the Superman costume, to which he responded that he wasn't wearing "no fucking tights." In retrospect, it's probably better off that my future offspring aren't going to share 50% of his genetics.

Tits: I actually respect him for being "No fucking tights;" those things ride up your ass like a motherfucker.

I'll take "All my hopes and dreams" for $100, Alex.

Nugs: We explored the aisles until we settled on suitable outfits for both of us and made our way towards the register. I was almost home free until I turned towards the checkout area- and came face-to-face with the Jewish Mother.

Nugs: MOM?!?!
JM: You must be [The Subscription]! I've heard a lot about you.
The Subscription: Um...
Nugs: *dies*
JM: You're right, he's cute. Well, see you at home!
Nugs: *and...puddle on the floor* Oh. God.
TS: It's cool. My mother's Italian, I get it.

Ginny: Your mom needs to have her own tv show.

Tits: Catholic Mothers are the second worst next to Jewish ones. That's what the poll said anyways. While I wasn't raised Catholic, my mother and grandmother were and they know how to make you feel guilty over everything. It's like an art form.

Ginny: Only my grandmother can guilt trip me into going to church. She's really good at it!

Nugs: Totally. My mother is such an expert at the Guilt Trip that I swear she taught the class. Actually, she was probably Dean of the entire school. As for our respective celebrations, the most important of the Jewish holidays is Yom Kippur, where we basically sit around all day and think about what an asshole we are. Also, while all of you guys get happy, fun movies like Miracle on 34th Street, A Christmas Carol and Home Alone, the closest thing Jews get to a holiday classic is Schindler's List. So make of this what you will.

Ginny: What about 8 Crazy Nights? Is that a Jewish classic?

Nugs: That is a Jewish abortion. But thanks for checking. <3

Perhaps the best (or worst) part of this whole calamity is that my mom sees absolutely nothing wrong with anything she ever says or does. She never thinks any of her children should be humiliated by any of the ways she chooses to express her love, no matter how cracked or unhinged they may make her appear. Whenever I question why I'm still without an appropriate lifemate, as if on cue, my mother's number comes up on the Caller ID and I think, "oh...right."

BRB, dying alone forever.

Ginny: Not true. Your mom will always be there ;)

Tit's Rules to Surviving Thanksgiving

So it's Thanksgiving time in the grand ole' USA and with that comes my first Thanksgiving with my Boyfriend and his family. My family decided to flee to Florida without me and so I didn't have anywhere to go until Imac was like "I have to go to my Grandfathers, come make it more bearable?" (He's a winner isn't he?). With that in mind, if you are like me and are going to have your first Thanksgiving with a significant other's family here are some handy rules for things you might not want to do:

1. Do Not bring your dog. I don't care how cute precious is and that she's normally so well-behaved and fits in your purse. Don't do it. 


2. Do Not wear sweat pants, ugg boots and old tank-top - at least try to look like you are making an effort.


3. Do Not complain about the food - I don't care if it doesn't taste like your grandma's mashed potatoes and so what that they have oysters at their dinner. Keep your bitching to yourself.


4. If you have a food allergy tell someone in advanced - My sisters are lactose intolerant and so we tell everyone like 20 times in advance or bring our own food. Don't show up and be like "yeah I'm gluten free, vegan and allergic to garlic."


5. Do Not try to have sex at their house- Can you spell awkward? Nugs: That never happened to me that one time in college or anything. I guess if its a three-story house with an attic and you are tied in the attic it might be acceptable


6. Do Not flirt with someone who isn't your date - I don't care if his older brother is brad fucking pitt, wait till after Thanksgiving to flirt with him. Nugs: Unless his brother is Baby Goose. Then all bets are totally off, and no one would blame you. 


7. Do Not get drunk - Even if the family makes you fucking insane, try to limit yourself to enough wine to just get you tipsy.

Nug's Addendums:


8. Do Not smoke- Anything. Even if offered. This is clearly a trick. Again, this never happened to me, ever.


9. Do Not bring up taboo topics- Find out what they are in advance and avoid them at all costs. Whether this be religion, politics, cats vs. dogs, the New York Yankees a.k.a. the Evil Empire or Dancing With the Stars, learn what gets your date's family all wonky and DO NOT DISCUSS.


10. Do know how to dress- I don't care if your "best feature" is your amazing rack; it's probably not the best idea to shove it in his parents' face. Usually a nice pair of jeans and a dressy top that doesn't put the goods on display is your best bet. Unless, of course, his brother is Baby Goose. See Rule #6.


11. Do know how to win over the parents- While this may seem like the ultimate in horrific situations, don't commit suicide just yet. Basically the key to mastering this art is dealing with each family member individually:



• THE MOM: This is the most difficult, since by showing up at her Thanksgiving feast is an admission that you're being railed on the regular by her baby boy (doesn't matter what his birth order is; he will ALWAYS be her baby boy). The trick to winning over his mother is to go on and on about how amazing her son is (not in that way, because GROSS). Also offer to help out during dinner as often as you can, especially with dishes. Getting his mom to love you is by far the most important because if she hates you, it only goes downhill from there. Seriously I been there with a mom hating me. I always like to volunteer to bring something like cookies or wine.
• THE DAD: The males of the family are always easier for me, probably because I'm half a dude myself and I realize now how weird that made me sound. The best strategy for the father is innocent flirting- "oh, Mr. Gosling, I see where your son gets his great ass. Eyes! I meant eyes." Just kidding. Never talk about anyone's ass. Keep it to neutral topics such as intelligence and snappy dressing, or radiation levels.
• SIBLINGS: Dealing with siblings is usually more manageable due to the fact that your date will probably brief you on the situation prior to your arrival. If one of their brothers or sisters is exceptionally unbearable you'll most likely have been prepared for it way in advance. For the regular, more normal siblings, conquering them should be relatively (see what I did there?) more simple: 
• BROTHERS: Brothers are pretty painless- just sit down in front of the TV and watch the football game with them. If you're a fan, don't hold back with the commentary. If you're not, let them know that you're "trying to get into it." Also, it helps if you're moderately attractive. Just sayin. 
• SISTERS: Contrary to what my scintillating personality may have you believing, I am, in fact, of the feminine persuasion, so I am aware that the best way to charm a woman is to let her talk about herself. Find out from your date what she's into and ask her questions, and let her dominate the conversation. You're in.

12. Do use this handy guide from HappyPlace.com with your own family- Trust me, you'll thank me later.

 

Taking Back Sunday

Nugs: As the token single girl here at Snark & Sex, I'm also the only one of us that's still maneuvering through the amusing, eluding and often embarrassing world of first-dating. Here in LA this has become increasingly difficult; maybe due to the fact that not everyone will be as impressed as I am at my ability to numerically recite all the doctors from Doctor Who (backwards and forwards!) and say "no" in Klingon (although armed with this so-called skill I seriously doubt that I should be saying "no" to anyone).

When I lived in New York, I wouldn't call myself a dating expert, of course, or all your wedding invitations would be in the mail. I did, however, have a few serious relationships, and some less important (but just as fun) ones in between. Of course, I also had a weakness for bartenders and guys in bands. You live, you learn- supposedly.

Ginny: I used to be all about the band dudes and bartenders. What was I thinking? I probably wasn't thinking....

Nugs: There's like a hierachy of Guys We Shouldn't Sleep With But Totally Do Anyway. Those are like, Numbers 1 and 2.

Anyway, then I moved to LA, and meeting a decent guy has not been easy to accomplish- most don't get past the "getting my number" phase, if that. I think in the few years that I've lived here, off and on, I've been on maybe four dates, including one that was so bad that I almost converted so I could join a convent. This, BTW, is a common complaint with most of the girls that I've met here as well.

Tits: She goes on and on about how guys in LA are just the worst and I keep saying they can't be any worse than guys everywhere else. So can any else living in LA validate Nug's experiences that LA guys are the worst?

Nugs: ****crickets****

Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was at my friends' band's show, and the guy next to me started a conversation. He was cute, and tall, had good taste in music and we knew some of the same people. We stepped outside so we could actually speak to each other without screaming, and when I mentioned that my other friend was playing the next night, he asked for my number. "Yeah, this'll happen," I thought, but I gave it to him anyway.

Ginny: You go girl!

Nugs: Yeah, not so fast with those accolades, there.

The next day I was with my dad, watching the Jets' humiliating loss to the Pats (quiet, Ginny), when I got a text from Champagne Supernova, so named because if I could predict the future, I would have foreseen the 75 drinks he consumed in an hour long period.

Ginny: LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLONUGSLOVESTOMBRADY

Yes, let's PLEASE bring this up as often as possible.

Ginny: *spikes ball Gronk style* YEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!

Nugs: Go a little to the left; that's my artery. How did those Red Sox do, BTW?

He asked me what time my friends were going on, and I told him 10:30, but I was going in early to eat. He didn't take that bait, but we texted on and off randomly through the rest of the day. I thought there was a chance this might actually occur, but it's me, so it would most likely be hilarious/horrific.

Ginny: Ok why would he not be like "oh do you want to have dinner together then?" Not a deal breaker but more of a thing to ponder about.

Nugs: Right? Definitely what I was thinking.

I arrived at the venue around 9:45, so I texted Champagne Supernova to let him I know I was there, and he should let me know when he arrived so I could get him in. I stood there by myself like a jackass and it was incredibly awkward until a few of my friends showed up around 10:15 and we grabbed a table. At exactly 10:30 Champagne Supernova told me he was 20 minutes away, which would have been more annoying if I weren't with a group of people already, who as it turned out were having a party that night and kept trying to convince me to leave with them. I finally called Champagne Supernova at 11:30 and asked how far away he was, and he was "parking." An hour late. This is usually a huge deal killer with me, considering he hadn't even thought it appropriate to give me a heads up.

Tits: So wait, his date was to go to a concert you were already going to because its your friend's band? Thats not a date that's him conveniently showing up. -10 for being a lazy ass.

-110 for showing up an hour late. UNACCEPTABLE. I don't even like IMac to show up 15 minutes late. I'm all "bitch my time is just as important as yours and I don't have time to wait around on your inconsiderate ass."

Ginny: Showing up late on the first date is very bad. And it doesn't seem like he really cared.

Nugs: He also texted me asking if I smoke weed, because he was going to pick some up. Look, I don't give a shit whether you do or you don't, and especially in LA, the majority that do is astronomically high. It just seemed like bad form to ask that over text when we hadn't even gone out yet, and considering he was already late, DON'T MAKE ANOTHER STOP. Also, where did he assume we were going to partake in this activity, because seeing as how this was Date #1, was I just going to come over to his house?

Ginny: Dude have some class and tone down the grass (ok that was lame I'm sorry)

Nugs: I actually laughed at that.


Tits: -50 because What the Hell was he thinking? But +50 to the bear because he's awesome.

Nugs: Strongly agree. Up top.

Anyway, he finally arrived, and since by this time the band was totally over, we decided to hit up a really awesome bar that I was familiar with and was close to my apartment, so I could run if necessary. We took a seat, and I noticed that he didn't open any doors for me, pull out my chair, or whatever. I'm totally capable of doing these things for myself, of course, but it would have been nice, especially since he was an hour late. He also spent the entire dinner on his phone, Facebooking, and barely made any eye contact. It's like, if you're not even going to try, why should I bother? My friends' party started to seem pretty appealing.

Ginny: !!!!!!!!!!!!! (*$&$(&%*)$%) *$#()%)U !!!!!!!!! just NO. So rude.

Tits: And this is when I would have been like I have to go... wash my hair/ get a root canal/reload my pistol so that when the zombie invasion comes I have a reason to murder you (don't judge you know if the zombie invasion happened there are some people who you would kill and be all "Wut they weren't a zombie just a horrible person? Same dif.).

We sat down, and Champagne Supernova informed me that he originally wasn't going to come because he was tired. "So like, you were just going to stand me up?" "No, I was going to tell you. I'm not a dick." Yeah, I'll be the judge of that. He also let me know that at the last minute he did decide to shower, and when he told me he was "20 minutes away" he was actually still at his house because he had just woken up.

Tits: WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST WALK OUT? OR GET AN "EMERGENCY CALL?"

Nugs: Well, technically I did. Read on.

We talked a little about work, and he seemed genuinely interested in my job. He had mentioned before that he too worked in film, so I believed that we had that in common, until he dropped the bomb that he was really a "musician first."

FUCKFUCKFUCKGODDAMMITFUCK. Why do they always find me? What is there, like, a convention or something? Is my picture on a wall, like a dartboard? Do they draw my name out of a guitar case, and whoever finds it gets me for the year?

Ginny: Well maybe he plays the recorder or something so he thinks he's a musician. At least this is what I'm picturing in my head. I played the recorder in 3rd grade so yea I'm a pretty bad ass musician.

Nugs: Technically I took a week's worth of piano lessons when I was eight. So, bonus?

We both ordered drinks (my second of the night; his fifth, apparently- Ginny, should we set up a Man Date with Liquid Lunch?), an app, and split a dessert. Our waiter was cool- he was fast, efficient, made great recommendations and was able to hold a witty conversation. Despite the fact that Champagne Supernova was a tool, some of the things he said were kind of funny, and I was able to talk to him. Also, during our meal, my friends were blowing up my phone, still trying to get me to come over, and I do have to admit that I was very tempted- especially when Champagne Supernova suggested that I eat more because I "needed more meat on me."

Dude. NEVER comment on a girl's weight. NEVER EVER EVER.

Tits: -10000 I mean I tell Nugs to eat a fucking pie all the time cause bitch is skinny, but when a guy does it, its just rude and obnoxious.

Nugs: That's because you and I are superclose and you can get away with that shit. Also sometimes you choose not to even validate my ridiculous Jew neuroses with an answer. But yeah, on a first date? Bitch, please.

Let's see how many posts we can use this pic in.

Also, not really a fan of pie. But red velvet cake? I'll take two, KTHNX.

Also Also- is anyone keeping track of how far into the negative numbers this guy has slipped at this point? Because I am really bad at math and at this point I just want to say -NO.

Then the bill came, and I politely extracted my Visa from its cave in my purse. I always do this, even though I am a firm believer in the policy that a guy always pays on the first date. It's not only a test to see how much longer the evening will progress, but also to show him that if the relationship will push forward, that yes, I am capable of providing for myself. It usually works in my favor, so what I did not expect is a) the cost of my simple vodka and pineapple ($14!!!) and b) for Champagne Supernova to enthusiastically agree ("you want to split? Cool!"). When he asked the waiter for separate checks, the look he got was great. It was obvious we were on a date, and the waiter stared at him like, "Seriously?"

Ginny: FAIL. Every guy should know that a girl is only doing this to be nice. We don't expect to pay on the first date. I don't expect a guy to pay for every date but the first is a must.

Tits: Please tell me you got the waiters number? Because I already like him better.

Nugs: DAMN, I wish I'd thought of that. You are so smart.

He also turned out to be an incredibly shitty tipper, shelling out 10% and insisting that this is the norm. I have done everything in the service industry (bar/waitstaff/hostess/etc) and some of my best friends are/were restaurant workers. This, to me, is the ultimate dealbreaker. You, sir, are an asshole.

Tits: I want his name, number, address and a headshot so that I can make sure to publicly humiliate him on the interwebz for being a horrible person.

Nugs: I think I actually might still have his business card somewhere. Check your inbox.

I decided to make him drop me off at the grocery store a block from my apartment- better to be safe than stalked. I told him I was meeting one of my girls who was in trouble (believable, since my phone had been ringing all night), and he replied, "Wow, that's really co-dependent." So he doesn't care about anybody else besides himself? Score! In reality I had excused myself to go to the bathroom at the bar and told my friends to pick me up at my place in half an hour.

Tits: There are just no words left for this guy. When did it become co-dependent to help a friend in trouble? No thats called being a good person and not a completely selfish, narcissistic, self-absorbed asshole who is too good for people.

Nugs: A few days later I was on Facebook with an old hookup, recounting the events that had gone down. This dude was no prize either- the most gentlemanly thing he ever did was move my hair out of the way- but even he was like, "Wow. What a dick."

And there you have it. The charming account of my terrible date. At least I can say that it's funny.

Tits: He really is the worst date ever. Props for not throwing him in front of a bus and calling it an accident, because I might have.

Ginny: Well you gave it a shot and that's all you can do right? This guy will be alone forever if this is how he acts. ENJOY!

Nugs: In case you guys are wondering, (you're not), I'm still wretchedly single.

Tits Says: Dear Abby Is Wrong

So I was reading Dear Abby the other days (as I often do) and I came across this one and all I could think was "Dear Abby is wrong." So I copied and pasted it for you:

Man Hopes Wife Outgrows Drunken Girls' Nights Out By Abigail Van Buren |

DEAR ABBY: My wife and I have been married for eight months. She has an occasional habit that makes me wonder whether we got married too young. (She's 23, I'm 27 and we're both in graduate school.) She likes to go out with a group of her friends from high school or with her sister and her sister's friends, get drunk and stay the night. It doesn't happen all the time -- several times a year -- and I'm not worried about her cheating on me. I try not to be the controlling husband and say she "can't" go out. But it bothers me that she wants to spend the night with her single friends and get drunk. If I try to talk to her about it, she gets angry and says she doesn't get to see her friends very often. I don't understand why her socializing always has to involve drinking and staying out all night. Her sister is my age and has a career in education, but still likes hosting these parties. I wonder how long it will take my wife to outgrow this phase. Am I being controlling? What should I do? -- GETTING FRUSTRATED IN PONTIAC, MICH.

Nugs: Granted, if I lived in Pontiac, MI I would probably be frustrated, too.

Sorry, go on. 

 DEAR GETTING FRUSTRATED: Your wife appears to be trying to hold onto her carefree single days, and it's a shame she can't do that without getting herself soused and staying out all night. On the other hand, if she's in no condition to get behind the wheel, then it's better that she not drive until she sobers up. I don't think saying what's on your mind is "controlling." I suspect your wife becomes angry because she is defensive. Her behavior is immature, and how long it will take her to outgrow this "phase" is anybody's guess. I recommend that you both widen your circle of friends so you spend more time with other married couples who are more mature than your wife's sister and high school friends appear to be.

Now I love to read Dear Abby most of the time just to see if she gives the same advice I would give. And in this case Abby and I couldn't be any further apart. I'm giving Dear Abby a:

Personally I think Frustrated is insecure and -yes- controlling. His wife is 23 years old and in graduate school. The girl has her act together and I don't think she is doing anything wrong by wanting to have a few girls nights out with her sister and friends several times a year. It's not like its every other week, its probably like once every other month.

Then OMG she is being responsible by not drinking and driving and staying at her sister's place.

Ginny: Now I wonder if she really gets drunk or if she's having a few and staying over her friends house. Either way she's not driving home after drinking and this happens a few times a year. Why doesn't he go out with his guy friends once a month? It seems to me that he's most upset about her not coming home after. Then offer to pick her up later and drive her home?

Nugs: Really. It's her sister- who, BTW, has a respected occupation and isn't some deadbeat alcoholic- and not some some random asshat from the bar. How about the next time your wife gets sufficiently hammered she gets behind the wheel and causes a horrific accident? Awesome.

This isn't about reliving her single days. It's about wanting to go out and have a good time and a few drinks with her friends without her husband in tow (who would probably be a buzzkill. Nugs- Ugh. Totally). I went to graduate school and it is incredibly hard and frustrating and sometimes you want to go out and drink. I used to go out with my female friends (most engaged or married) without their husbands all the time. They were married not leashed to their husbands. It isn't a phase, its called going and having a good time and she doesn't need to grow out of it. They don't have kids. It's not like she's leaving a toddler home alone, she's leaving her 27 year old husband.

Nugs: Or judging from the tone of this email, she pretty much is leaving a toddler. 

I'm currently the token single girl at SAS, but when I am seeing someone, I need my girl time (and my alone time) just as much as my sexytimes. It's always important to keep your friends when you're in a relationship because seriously, who are you going to bitch to when your boyfriend inevitably fucks up?


Speaking of her boyfriend, it sounds to me like Frustrated either doesn't have a lot of friends or just doesn't like going out. I mean I love my Boyfriend but he's an introvert and sometimes he doesn't want to go out to the clubs drinking and dancing with me. So I should stay home and pander to him because I can't go out with him? Sure sometimes we go out with other couples, but he likes to have boys nights with his friends and I like to go out with mine and there is nothing wrong with that. It's called being in a stable relationship where you can still be your own person.

Ginny: I'm picturing frustrated  pacing back and forth starting at the clock on the wall waiting for his wife to come home.

Nugs: Yes. Also do you guys find it really weird when a guy has no friends at all and wants to spend all his time with you? Always? Stalking...it's what's for dinner.

Unless it's lobster dinner; then I'll pretty much do whatever the fuck he wants.

So Dear Abby: You are wrong. It's not the 1700s and woman are allowed to go out without their husbands and Frustrated needs to loosen up.

Ginny: If this was a girl writing to Dear Abbey I bet she would be told she was being paranoid and guys will by guys. Who loves double standards! So much fun! 

Debate Class: To Do Or Not To Do

Nugs: Every so often at Snark & Sex we realize that while we're clearly experts in the dating field, we actually don't have all the answers to everything. So when I came across a minor dilemma last week I emailed the girls and they suggested I turn this into our first debate post of the blog. So if you will, read this story of my wild night out and choose your own adventure.

Lily: I've heard this story already, and Nugs knows most of what I would say ...

Nugs: So I have this friend. I'll name her Kitty due to her love of animals and also because... well, because it's a euphemism, all right? Here at Snark & Sex we don't make much with the subtlety.

I love Kitty because we don't get to hang out much (she works ALL THE TIME), but when we do, she's fucking insane so you never know what you're going to get- kind of like Forrest Gump with a bigger IQ and exponentially better jugs.

It's entirely possible that every time we go out I could wake up the next morning in another part of the country with a tattoo and an adopted litter of baby marmosets. She's also really hot so guys practically shove me into oncoming traffic just to hear her explain the website she just finished programming. Yup, she's really smart, too. So, yeah, awkward.

Anyway, this weekend Kitty and I were hanging with a few of my friends (and four puppies!) when I sensed that one of them was totally checking her out. This guy has all the stealth of a Gestapo regime so I excused myself to get a drink so they could "talk" and get to know each other better. I was gone for maybe seven minutes when I turned around and noticed that the two of them had gotten past that stage pretty quickly. I mean, I was half in the bag at this point but I know what I saw, and that, my friends, was well into PG-13. Possibly R, if I plied either of them with more beer (not hard to do, honestly).

Kitty realized I was standing near the wet bar (hahahaha), disentangled herself and assured me that she was not going to hump some random dude, even if they did have a common thread (me). She had actually told him that repeatedly, and although disappointed, Grabby Hands seemed fine with it.

Then she returned to her prior location and I, being an excellent wingwoman, sought out a new spot where the puppies were and waited for Kitty to come up for air.

Nine years later, after the owners of the house had dropped hints that it was time for everyone to haul ass back to their own place of residence, Kitty finally decided to stick her tongue back in her own mouth. As everyone was packing up their shit, Grabby Hands came over to the group and announced that he would need a ride back to Hollywood in the morning. "I can do it," Kitty piped up. "You can come over to my place."

I was pretty surprised. A) I was staying on her couch that night so I really didn't appreciate this and B) as crazy as she was, I knew for a fact that Kitty never slept with guys that she just met. Like, ever. I was shocked that it seemed like she had completely changed her policy.

So we got to her apartment, and the two of them immediately retired to her bedroom. Mercifully, her walls are pretty thick, so the only sound I heard all night was the hum of her incredibly loud AC unit. By the time I woke up, Grabby Hands was gone, and Kitty was doing work on her desktop, having dropped him off at the bus.

"Good morning," she greeted me. "Or, afternoon."

 "Uh, I bet."

"Oh, we didn't have sex. He wanted to, but you know I don't do that."

"So, what did you guys do all night? Compare POG collections?"

"What the hell is that?" (Did I mention that Kitty is 25? Fuck, am I older than everybody?)

Lily: Wait! I'm 25, and I HAD Pogs!

Ginny: Let's bring Pogs back!

Nugs: I agree. I also noticed that you guys are ignoring the "am I old" question. Moving on.

"Seriously, what happened last night?"

Kitty went on to recount the events that took place behind her closed door- she and Grabby Hands "talked" for a while, "made out" for an even longer while, and then, true to her promise, she dropped him off at the bus station. "I think he's pissed at me though. You know, because I didn't sleep with him."

Lily: As most guys would be. As if they're OWED sex. *eye roll*

Nugs: I didn't want to say anything, since I was supposed to be on her side, but, well, yeah. If you literally spend hours attached to another human being through your saliva glands and then invite them to spend the night with you, one naturally expects it to go in a certain direction, even if you've been insisting in the negative the entire time.

Don't look at me like that- I'm in no way insinuating that Kitty was obligated in any way to do anything that she felt uncomfortable doing. If she said no sex, she meant no sex. However, her actions all night definitely implied otherwise- even I assumed she was ready to get down. I can definitely understand where Grabby Hands was coming from and I can't blame him for being less than enthused the next morning. Essentially, for lack of a better phrase, Kitty acted like a tease.

So what do you guys think? Is there any way this scenario could have played out any differently? Did Grabby Hands have any right to expect anything? Should Kitty have invited him over at all? And do any of you remember any of my '90's toys?

Lily: So a part of me would be say she was being a tease. Playing tonsil hockey all night, inviting him over, and then no sex? Seems like a HUUUUUUUGE let down.

I get her stance on no sex... but still, if you weren't going to have sex with the guy DON'T INVITE HIM OVER. She could have given him a ride and he could have gotten a cab when he was actually closer to his house. But it is entirely possible that she doesn't see it as being "tease-y". Poor guy, he probably left with blue balls.  

Ginny: I have to say that if you don't want to sleep with a guy then don't invite him back and let him sleep in your bed. If she had told him he had to sleep on the couch if he came over then maybe I'd be like, ok, she made it clear. BUT he slept in her bed and they were making out all night so as most guys would, he assumed that maybe there would be sex. 

Also, you were sleeping over so she should have been like, sorry dude I have a guest.

Nugs: Any opinions from you guys, our brilliant and loyal followers? (We haven't come up with a name for you yet) Let us know what you think!

Tits Says: The Failtanic Hit an Iceberg

So over on my personal blog I talk a lot about online dating. Now I'm currently taken, again, but I did my fair share of online dating while I was single and there was a lot of LOLWUTS during it. I mean besides my stage-five clinger, who seemed normal at first, I've gotten a lot of weird ass people messaging me. This prompted me to find some of the best/worst profiles on online dating. I was not disappointed:

The name alone is a bad idea there, but then he has to say "no games and no drama!!" Which just means he dates crazy bitches and may possibly be one. (Nugs: May???) Also what kind of job do you have that you can't post pics? Do you work for the CIA? Are you a nazi- terrorist?

Nugs: My guess is Taco Bell employee. (Tits: Most Likely)

Ginny: Any person who says "no games and no drama" really means "I love jerking you around and I will be super controlling and treat you like crap". I'm pretty sure there has to be a documented experiment proving this somewhere. 

Also his job is probably living in mom's basement.

Nugs: Is it wrong that "frostyfatdik" makes me think of Dairy Queen?

Do you have any questions for him? Also bonus points for the capitalization and random emoticons.

Ginny: I have a question :p is this a smiley face with a bunch of chins? :))) p.s. nice popped collar.

Nugs: This is easily the most hilarious thing that you have ever said, Ginny. Please don't be this funny when I'm at work.

My boyfriend sent me this one and it actually inspired this post:

Click to Read! You won't be disappointed

Nugs: !!!!!!!!!!

Well that explains why she looks so butch.

Ginny: I'm wondering if this person is lying so some guy reading this will be like "oh well, they were really a girl and they're just going back so yea it's totally fine." but I don't think this person is smart enough for that considering they can't turn their flash off for a mirror shot.

Nugs: If you guys really love reading these you should check out A(n)nals of Online Dating. Tits sends me links from this site on the regular and each one kills me more than the last. Whoever came up with this is like the Stephen Hawking of internet dating.

Seriously, I love that site. I read it religiously and am thankful that I haven't gotten anything quite that bad during my tenure of online dating.

All of this brings me to this story. I have a friend who also does online dating. This particular male friend is a real catch: cute, smart, funny, with a great job, two houses and an adorable dog. I would marry this boy if I could get him drunk enough to consent (and you know I didn't have a BF). But for whatever reason he has the worst luck with online dating. Even though he's being charming, some bitches just look for a reason to be assholes. Like this convo:

Way to be a bitch there lady. He's trying to compliment you and you can't possibly be any fucking ruder if you possibly tried.

This right here is why men think women are bitches.

Nugs: Wow. Nasty bitch.

Ginny: Maybe she thought he was being sarcastic? But then he proves his HP knowledge and explains why he thought she was Umbridge so at that point you can tell he was being genuine and was just trying to be nice.


Nugs: My cousin, who's a doctor at a hospital in Jersey (although... Jersey, so maybe that explains it (Tits: Hey, I am from Jersey! Living proof that normal people do come from there)), is on JDate. For those of you who don't know JDate, it's basically for Jewish guys who want to find really slutty girls (although they claim it's not).

Also PS- define "normal." Also tell me how much money I would need to pay you to get you to move back to New Jersey. (Tits: The only way I am going back to Jersey is if Random House decides to hire me on as an editor and pays me a kajillion dollars. So point taken)

In any case...

He wound up meeting and getting engaged to (!) this one chick who turned out to be not only a flaming sociopath but a total gold-digging whore with a (albeit amazing) fake rack. She was also a complete fucking idiot who I swear needed to take her shoes off to count past ten. Anyway, he was smart enough to call the wedding off before she left a horse head with tattooed eyeliner in his bed.

I know there are lots of good stories, too though. A lot of my friends have dated online. Some of them are still in those relationships. Hey, to each their own.

Ginny: I would just like to say that as someone who has tried online dating you will get a ton of bad messages and creepers but sometimes you find profiles so insane you just have to laugh. And sometimes you actually meet someone great so don't let these profiles scare you away. :))) :P

Nugs: AHAHAHAHAHA.

Tits: True that, before Imac and I got back together I met a really amazing guy on POF. He was so perfect I am half-tempted to set Nugs up with him now. I mean he loved the Ninja Turtles and could out-nerd both of us.

Nugs: No. He made you sad so I hate him now. Also, out-nerd me? Pffft.

Break-Ups Made Easy!

Nugs: I think it's a safe bet that my fellow Bloggi would put me in the category of Most Awesome Thing to Grace the Planet, Ever. If not Number One, then at least fourth, after Ryan Gosling's abs, cookie dough milkshakes, and cats covering the opening theme to Game of Thrones.

 

Fucking genius.

Tits: No Comment.

Nugs: Whatever. That is a comedy win. Better than porn, I say.

However, for all the talents I hold in my pinky finger (oh haaaai), there are those that I don't possess, and one of those is the ability to effectively break up with someone. True, if the asshat in question commits a truly heinous deductible such as cheating on me or reorganizing my Blu-Ray collection, then yeah, I'll bust out the rage brigade.

But take, for example, the poor, Nugs-struck fool who I've not-so-lovingly in the past referred to as "The Fairy Princess." The first few hours I spent with him were OK, but soon after that I wanted to slowly peel my own skin off with plastic spoons just to have a different activity to focus on. This dude's only offense was the fact that he was seriously into me, although I do emphasize the "serious," and he kind of looked like a live-action Fry from Futurama, only slightly more built.

Kind of with this facial expression, too. Yup.

I wasn't having it, and in a moment that I describe as not my finest, I acted like a total bitch and then stopped taking his calls. Present-day Nugs would have- well, probably would have done pretty much the same thing, but maybe have blamed PMS.

Tits: It's true. I come to Nugs for advice on a lot of things. Break-ups is never one of them. Her advice is either: Avoid them or tell them they are a waste of space. There isn't a gentle let down in her book.

Nugs: I am a stealth bomb.

At any rate, that wasn't fair. If I'm going to be the cause of the whole neighborhood being subjected to "I Want To Know What Love Is" while some unfortunate sits outside my building sobbing into a fifth of Jack, at least he should know why. The Girls and I were actually discussing tactful ways to dump someone when, almost on cue, I came across this pictorial on HappyPlace.com:

http://www.happyplace.com/12083/absurdly-inappropriate-cake-inscriptions/

Can you imagine if someone started a business like this? How amazing would that be? No one would have to talk to each other, ever- all your work is done for you! If you knew how to bake, that is. They have cakes for everything- and I mean EVERYTHING. The next time I want to dump someone, I'll just go with one of these:

Or, if you just need to have a "serious talk" about your future but don't know exactly what to say:

Chocolate always cushions the blow!

They even have some for boys, too:

Apologies are always better with frosting! Oh, wait:
 

FYI, guys: The "cheek sneak" fools no woman. We know you know.

Tits: I want to know how good of a shot this guy was to actually get semen that far up.

Nugs: Right? Like, how often did he practice?

Personally I was a fan of this one:

Because who the fuck does that?

Nugs: AHAHAHAHA!

And, lest you are one of those happy couples looking for a positive way to declare your love:

Our personal favorite here at Snark & Sex, complete with stunning 80's dance moves:

GOLD. Gold.

Do you guys think I should make that cake for my dad? His birthday is in a couple of weeks.

Ginny also came up with the idea to add greeting cards into the mix. I think this is hysterical, and the fact that no one has given us genius grants yet is clearly a crime. 

Shit writes itself.

If I still had that guy's address (or remembered his name), I would send one of those cakes to him. At the very least, I would say my actions would be justified.

Everyone loves chocolate!

Tits: Also Flowers. Bitches (and by that I mean me) love flowers. 

So basically, I don't respect anyone

Lily: Lately, I've been super obsessed with Pinterest. I'll spend hours and hours on there, just repinning things I think look pretty.

Yesterday, I came across this gem of a blog post: 25 Ways to Communicate Respect To Your Husband. As a woman who is getting married soon, I decided to look through it. Maybe it'll have something interesting. 

Tits: So I opened this link and the first thing I noticed is that the writer looks like an old-timey religious Mormon that has sister wives and lives to obey her husband. Not really a great role model to follow (btw, I don't think she actually is one of those Mormons)

Nugs: The first thing I noticed is that this woman is batshit fucking insane.

Ginny: I'm going to just walk up to my boyfriend and say "I'm praying for you" and walk away. Totally not creepy.

Perfectly normal!

While there are some things that make sense (despite being a little too religious-y for my taste), there are other points that are WTFs. 

Keep the house tidy. Isn't that kind of a given? I mean, why would anyone want to live in a pigsty. But, how is this showing that I respect my [future] husband?

Nugs: This would actually be more for me. When people come to my house I like to follow them around with paper towel and coasters. As long as they've graduated to "aiming for the bowl," guys usually don't give a shit about a this.

No pun intended.

Dress to please him. "Choose clothes your husband finds flattering, both in public and around the house". LOLWUT? First of all, I buy my own clothes. I think I have a better idea of what looks good on my body. If it were up to Ivan, I'd probably always have to wear a shirt that exposes the girls. So, yeah no. Stupid point.

Tits: If I had to dress for my boyfriends, I would have to buy new clothes each go around. Imac would have me in nothing but booty shorts, Meathole guy would probably just had me topless and College guy loved me in dresses and miniskirts. My wardrobing budget cannot handle dressing to please a man.

Nugs: So basically, just be naked then? That's the real hidden message here.

Are these really the things I need to do to respect my husband? How is "preparing his favorite food" a sign of respect? I'm not going to feed him stuff he doesn't like (Read: seafood), but I'm not going to go out of my way to make his favorite food often. On a special occasion, yes. On a regular Tuesday. NO.

Nugs: This really should say "keep beer in the fridge."

Tits: Also weed on the table and make him a goddamn sandwich every 3 hours 

Ginny: Beer is totally a meal and easy to prepare.

Don't complain. Fuck we're screwed. I guess I shouldn't get married.

Tits: Seriously? I mean so I'm just supposed to let him watch ghost hunters, clip his toenails at the kitchen table,  and fart on me and not bitch at him? I'm okay with being a cat lady now

Ginny: crap. I will never be able to keep anyone happy.

One of my favorite points is this: 

Respond Physically: Did you know that the way you respond (or don't respond) to your husband's romantic overtures has a profound effect on his self-confidence? Don't slap him away when he tries to hug you or make excuses when he's in the mood. Your enthusiastic cooperation and reciprocation will not only assure him of your love, but will make him feel well-respected, too. 

You don't say, Mrs. Flanders! But, what if, I'm not in the mood? You just can't have sex when you're not in the mood.

Nugs: That sounds an awful lot like, uh, rape. Just sayin.

Ginny: So you need to use your body to prove you love him? Awesome.

If your husband respects you, he'll understand if you're not in the mood... and if he doesn't, well he can take himself to the bathroom. At least this is what I think.

I don't know about all this. I can't just show my respect by being a good listener, a good lover (bow chicka bow wow and other wise), a friend, a good partner? Maybe I'm just going to suck at the whole marriage thing. So would that make me a "Satanic emissary trying to destroy families"?

Tits: I don't know, how about just respecting them period. I mean I don't make my BF's watch Project Runway or the Yankees and they don't force me to watch Jersey Shore or the Kardashians. I think this is the most respect you can have in a relationship.

Nugs: OK, but even Satan's wife probably complained about the heat from the seventh circle sometimes. What is this bitch, Amish?

No. Just no.

Ginny: It's a two way street. You both need to show respect to each other. This article is very oneside and looks like it was written in 1950.

Bingo!

Dude where's my car? Or Ginny's worst date ever.

I've dated a lot. You can label me a serial dater, I admit to it. When I was single I dated guys I met through friends, bars and online dating. You would think that my worst date story would be about someone I met online, but this guy I actually met at a bar.

Nugs: That sounds like the start of every failed relationship I've been in since college. So I can already see where this is going.

Tits: This makes me feel slightly better about being a serial dater except I have never met a guy at a bar. Like I can't pick up men at a bar because I'm a bitch or something. Anyways carry on.

Boston circa 2008ish? I'm not quite sure. I'm at a show at Great Scott with two of my friends. I happen to spot a guy that I had dated briefly that completely blew me off (that's another story for another time). I can only imagine the look on my face when I walked up to the bar. When you see a guy that hurt you the Ginny solution is to get another drink.

Nugs: And this is why we're friends.

Tits: Yep that's the best solution to that problem.

Lily: Ditto. Because as Homer Simpson said: 

I order my beer and sit down next to this guy because it was the only seat open at the bar and he was kind of cute. I had a feeling he was going to start talking to me and he did. Good, I thought. I hope that asshat who blew me off was watching this.

Lily: I just want to sidebar for a second to say I love asshat as an insult! 

I'm going to call my new friend at the bar liquid lunch which will be explained later on (although I think you can figure out why already).

Liquid lunch and I seem to get along pretty well. We chat through the whole show and he buys me a drink or two. At the end of the night he gets my number and we agree to meet up soon. He works not too far from me so we figure lunch might be a good place to start.

Two days later and I'm walking towards a bar/restaurant to meet liquid lunch for lunch. When I walk in he's drinking a martini. Ok, I'm not going to judge. I know I can drink a lot but I don't drink during my lunch break at work. But again, that's me.

Tits: He ordered drinks before you got there. I find that a little rude. Red Flag

I sit down at the bar and we chat as I look over the menu. I put in my order for food and ask liquid lunch if he's getting anything since he wasn't looking at a menu.

"Nah, I'm doing a liquid lunch."

Nugs: That seriously would have been my cue to "excuse myself to the bathroom" and then climb out the window. But I'm also incredibly curious to see where this is going.

Curious like a trainwreck.

Lily: And you can't look away .... Like a moth to a flame.

I didn't really know how to react to that so I just said ok and tried to continue the conversation. As I'm drinking my water and eating my food liquid lunch orders a shot. He tried to get one for me too and I tell him no thanks, so he does my shot as well (Lily: dafuq?! I can only guess how lunch is going to end).

Lunch time is over and I'm full and sober and liquid lunch smells like a bar. At least he ate the olives in the martini (Lily: That is better than nothing.).

Tits: What kind of work does he do that he can go back to work smelling like booze? Because I need that job.

Nugs: Strongly agree.

Ginny: I wish I could remember!

I was a bit thrown by our lunch date but decided to give him one more chance. We meet up for dinner and drinks (of course) a few nights later. Liquid lunch is drinking beer, mixed drinks and doing shots. I stick to beer. I also had to drive so I wasn't going to go crazy.

I drive liquid lunch back to his place and he asks if I want to come up and watch a movie (Nugs: Translation: "Let's get naked"). I tell him I can come up for a few minutes but I'm not staying long (Nugs: Translation: "You will never see me naked"). Mostly I just wanted some water. He shows me where to park and I ask him if he is sure the spot is ok because it's Boston and parking is horrible. He assures me it's fine, this is the parking for where he lives.

Once inside I realize that I just want to go home. We chat for a couple minutes and then he offers to walk me to my car. We go outside and my car is not there.

I look at liquid lunch.

"You said that spot was fine!"

"It is, I swear! Someone must have stolen your car!"

We go back inside and I call the nearest tow place. They said they don't have it. The whole time liquid lunch is loudly telling me to call the police not the tow place.

I ignore liquid lunch and call two other tow lots. The third lot has it. Thank god. I tell this to liquid lunch and he starts ranting about how my car should not have been towed even though he does not rent that spot! Could you have told me this earlier?

Pardon my language but you are a f($*&%^ idiot. That's what I should have said but instead I called a cab to take me to my car. I ask him to come with me.

Tits: Wait you call a cab? Does this liquid motherfucker not have a car and offer to drive you? Because douchebag of the year. 

Ginny: Nope, no car and no offer to pay for said cab.

"Are you going to come with me?"

"No, I have to get up early tomorrow."

I look at him like he has to be joking. But he was totally serious. I was so pissed I didn't even think about how much money getting my car out would cost until I stormed out and got in the cab. He texts me asking me to let him know when I get there.

Nugs: Thanks. What a fucking gentleman.

Asshat.

When I get to the lot I find out that it's $160.00. I text this back to him and his response is "that sucks."

Now if this happened now I would have lost my shit. I never would have left, I would have made him pay to get my damn car out. I would like to smack that Ginny for not standing up for herself. Instead I just ignored all of his texts and phone calls and never spoke to him again. Liquid lunch even had the balls to text me "did I do something wrong?" after I stopped responding.

Yes, yes you did do something wrong you asshole. Thank you for assuring me that that spot was fine and then not offering to come with me or pay to get my car out. Good thing you don't know 2012 Ginny because I would have gone Mel Gibson crazy on your ass (minus the racial slurs, that's not cool).

Nugs: OK, 1) Could you maybe have picked a MORE CONVENIENT TIME to bring up that you didn't rent that spot? 
And B) What in the motherfucking "Call Me Maybe" sing-along hell is this shit? What kind of dickhead manages to get his date's car towed and then doesn't go with her to get it out of impound? You, sir, are an asshole.

BABY SEAL) It may be time to switch to water. Just a suggestion.
DD) You, sir, are an asshole.

Tits: I'm pretty sure he's going to die alone with a liquor bottle in his hand, so I'm going to call this a win for you Ginny because you didn't get bogged down with dating him. I mean could you imagine if you didn't find out what a complete loser he was until after you had dated him 2 months.

Lily: I honestly cannot believe this douchebag! I'll go back in time and punch him for you, Gin.

Ginny: Instead of Hot Tub Time Machine it's Revenge Time Machine

You've Got Male. See What I Did There?

Nugs: This weekend I went out of town to visit my mom and, while on my vacation, picked up a shit-ton of postcards for all my co-bloggers (Bloggesses? Bloggi? Let's coin something and make this a Thing).

Lily: I vote Bloggi, because it sounds funny.

Ginny: And Bloggi sounds like it would be grammatically correct or something like that if it was a real word.

Nugs: You guys know how I feel about grammatical accuracy. Let's do this. Moving on..

Lest you think that I'm a total philanthropist or whatever, keep in mind that this was like 40% for them and like 60% for me. Or, to be more accurate, it's probably more 20%-80%.



Ginny: I'm bad at math so don't look at me.

Nugs: I am definitely more of a science nerd. "Chemistry," hey-o!

Anyway...

Every time I mail something to my friends I get to go to the UPS store, which means that I get to see my secret boyfriend; and by "boyfriend" I totally mean "definitely knows I'm in love with him and is most likely terrified that I'm waiting behind his car or something." I should probably inform him that we are in fact together but I like my relationships to have that element of surprise. I swear I am thisclose to throwing myself boobs out on the counter and asking him to sign for my package.

Lily: TeeHee, package! In all seriousness though, you should totally do it. 

Coyote Tits: Nugs has been talking about this guy for months. MONTHS. The way she describes him, well it's totally like this:

Nugs: It's true. My friends all benefit from my stalker tactics because this means they get a bunch of presents, but in return they have to put up with me rambling on about how hot this guy is. So, tit for tat. Without the TAT.

One time I went in there with an NYC shirt and some old dude started talking to me about the Knicks. I love the Knicks, despite the fact that they consistently suck, and the guy behind the counter was like, "oh, we have someone here who's a Knicks fan." Then he told my future child support to come out from the back room and I DIED. Not visibly, though, because I'm all stealth.

As it turns out, we are totally made for each other because he is also from New York. He had even heard of the tiny college that I went to that people usually make curious puppy face when I mention. Also did I tell you guys that he looks like this?

Lily: And you haven't jumped his bones, why? This is a HUGE step above from what I was imagining in my head. 

Nugs: Wait. What are you implying?

Lily: Stop slacking and get to it!

Nugs: The answer here is simple: I'm a chickenshit.

I mean, we had talked to each other before but not normally for more than three minutes because:
1) He's at work (Not a good excuse, he takes breaks, no?)
B) He's always surrounded by old fat dudes and (ew)
MAGICAL PRANCING UNICORNS) That three minutes is usually the exact amount of time I can hold a conversation with him before I picture him naked and get all flustered and have to leave before I say something that gives away what is going on in my head OH HAAAAAI. Every time he asks for my number to "put in the system" I want to be like, "put THIS in the system." Oh yes. And then I get all excited because he asked for my number. And then I remember, "oh right. It's his job." Sad.

Coyote Tits: This is also his job:

Nugs: Anyway, I went there today to mail everything and- what a gyp- he wasn't even there! Or his red light psycho-meter went off and he went to sit in the back in the fetal position until I left. Later Tits and I were on Facebook and this happened:

Nugs: he wasn't even there; what a gyp
Coyote Tits: seriously
Nugs: or maybe he was hiding in the back. he probably heard me come in and was like "Oh Shit"
Coyote Tits totally unlikely;  he would have been all "get the fuck out of my way the hot bitch with the big tits is here"
Nugs:: AND SCREENCAP
Coyote Tits hahaha
dammit now everything I say can and will be used against me in a court of Nugs 

Ginny:  Looks like we're going to be getting more post cards.

Nugs: All my friends keep telling me to just ask him to get a drink or something, but I think at this point he would probably run the fuck the other way. Or at least purposely give me the wrong meeting place and then have the cops show up. Although, hey, handcuff access! Ye-yeah.

Please still be my friends.

Ginny: I like the or something because the or something could be sexy times.

Lily: I agree. Invite him out. Talk about NYC. And if the cops come, maybe they would want to join the party. HEY-O!

P.S. We're still friends.