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 ;)

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.

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