Tuesday, February 2, 2016


Food and beverage people always say that everyone should work in food and beverage at least once in their lives because they’ll see how truly horrible people can be, and it may bring awareness to the condition.

...And that condition is Mike.  

Mike was a complete embarrassment to my friend June on their one and only date and it was NOT because Mike was drunk or anything.

He's an embarrassing date sober.

Uhhh.....check please!!!!


Mike and June met online (ugh) and they both chatted beforehand about their love for a nice steak dinner so Mike asked her out to a steak dinner.

He was already breaking the mold for all the other online dates she had gone on.

He didn’t suggest they go to a seedy dive bar, for one thing. 

And the way he phrased asking her out, it was implied that he’d be paying the bill. Promising!!!

June said that when she met Mike for before-dinner cocktails, she was pleasantly surprised by how cute he was. Promising!!

But then Mike asked the bartender if the bar had any “small-batch gin.”


June said since they were at a fancy bar, the bartender said actually, yes, they do, and he made Mike a small-batch gin martini.

The minute Mike took a sip of the martini his cute face turned into a scowl.

“EWWWWW” he said dramatically. “This is HORRIBLE.”

“Ok, well, then send it back and get another drink made,” June said.

“NO, it’s FINE. I’LL DRINK IT,” Mike said. With every sip, his face curled up into a scowl, unattractive.

The bar they were at is a very small, narrow bar and the bartender could clearly hear that Mike hated his cocktail.

“How is that small-batch?” (LOL) he asked, already knowing the answer.

FINE,” Mike said.

“Really, if you don’t like it, I can make another one.”

“NO! I’LL DRINK IT!” Mike yelled (yelled!!) and then June said she had to sit there watching him take sour-faced sips of a drink with a helpless bartender.

“Hey, the bartender just wants to make you happy. You can get another drink, we’d ALL appreciate it,” June said.

But Mike was too proud or too interested in being unhappy to care.

Now, if small-batch gins were unsuitable for Mike’s delicate palate, you can imagine how he did with a rare steak. 

June said basically the exact same scenario went down: Mike ordered something, wasn’t pleased with it, yet refused to get another one, leaving the server helpless and pissed off.

“This steak is NOT rare,” he told June deliberately as the server was coming up. The same writhing sour face, LOL.

“It’s not?” the server said, having overheard his complaint. 

“I'm sorry, let me have them make another one. It won’t take more than five minutes to fire it.”


Another SOUR FACE.

June looked at the server, helpless herself.

MY steak is perfect,” she said trying to make the server feel better.

Mike snorted.

Again June told him, “Why don’t you just get another fucking steak? Why are you being so difficult?”

“BECAUSE I’M STARVING,” he said, eating his meat.

“A rare steak takes no time at all,” she said. 

But it was clear that Mike wasn’t interested in being happy with his food, drinks or service. He just wanted to complain and be a dick.

(June noted he also disliked the gin martini at the steak place, surprise, surprise.)

June said it got so bad that the MANAGER came over to the table to see what the problem was. 

"Your server says you're not happy...."

June was mortified and kept repeating to the manager that HER steak was perfect and delicious. Mike backtracked saying it was “fine,” making everyone uncomfortable.

In fact, it was the most uncomfortable date she had ever been on. She said other people were staring at them and their table. Certainly the others servers were. 

Then, the server came back and announced that the manager was going to give them a free dessert because of the steak. 

“I DON’T EAT DESSERT!” Mike said.


(Ed note: Who the F doesn't eat dessert????)

June said the server got snippy, which was again mortifying since it had never happened to her before.

“Well, then take the dessert to-go, I don't care,” she said and walked away.



June ordered a custard cup or whatever and then shoveled it into her mouth as fast as possible so they could leave and she’d never have to see Mike again.

At least he paid. 

On the walk back to her car, June again told Mike that it was confusing as to why he was so difficult and why he couldn’t have re-ordered the food and drinks he wasn’t happy with.

“It doesn’t matter, it wouldn’t be right anyway,” he said.


June then understood why this "cute" guy was online dating.

He was clearly some sort of unsatisfied, miserable control freak who loves to be fussed over by food and beverage workers.

Because there is no other reason why someone would pay $30 for a steak that’s not to their preferred temperature or $11 for a gin martini that’s disgusting. 

It's like he got off on being difficult.

(Ed note: At least someone was getting off that night...heyooo)

June said she was counting the city blocks until she got to her car when they walked past a cute wine bar that June had spent many nights enjoying.

“Oh, that place is horrible, I ordered a CHIANTI the other week at it tasted OLD,” Mike said.


June couldn’t even imagine being there with him as he argued with the bartender about the time frame in which the bottle was opened.


What a tool.

He was 2-for-2 in pissing off wait staff for no good reason. Thank god there wasn’t the opportunity for a third.

Besides, there aren’t enough sour faces to deal with any more of him.


Tuesday, January 26, 2016


Since I don’t have children, it’s been forever since I’ve heard about a good temper tantrum.

Like, a temper tantrum where (generally a child) yells at a person who has nothing to do with the real reason why they are mad, and irrationally calls them names.

This guy Nick, who dated my friend Sarah, was very similar to Ace Ventura in that he was mad about something football-related.

But he wasn’t mad about the missing stone from the 1984 AFC Championship Ring, it was that his college football team, Clemson University, had lost to the University of South Carolina.

(This was evidentially a few years ago haha)

Nick was dating my friend Sarah, who, it should be noted, is the absolute nicest person I have ever met. 

She is a sweet, gentle soul who never yells or raises her voice. She barely curses (ahem...cusses).

Sarah and Nick were both from South Carolina, but their college football allegiances were split, each one rooting for the other’s rival.

But since Sarah didn’t really care all that much, she donned the garish purple and orange of her rival team Clemson to go with Nick to the most anticipated game of the year. 

It had been several years since they each graduated and Sarah hadn’t been to a game in a long time. She was excited.

They had only been dating for a few months, so Nick should have been on his best behavior (dating tip #2234825).

But at the game, when it was clear that University of South Carolina was going to beat Clemson, Nick became angry...at Sarah for some reason.

Mind you the same Sarah who had lovingly pulled for his team and even shouted “Go Tigers” in the stands. (that’s love).

When the game ended, Sarah tried to be supportive and cheer him up with an it’s OK, at least now we get to go get alcohol somewhere, but Nick was not having any of it.

He started yelling at poor, sweet Sarah about how all University of South Carolina people were “dicks” and how he hated everyone who went to school there.


Now, any girl would be completely turned off by these insults, but it was especially shocking to Sarah, the sweet, gentle soul who no one would ever think to yell at.

She started walking a few steps behind him.

It was that moment when Nick saw freshly-painted graffiti on the grassy knoll at the stadium. 

A thoughtful “YOU SUCK” directed at Clemson fans, written in the signature University of South Carolina maroon.

“WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON???” Nick bellowed to no one.

Sarah said she froze the two strides behind him as people filed out of the stadium around them. 

No one else seemed to care that much about the graffiti.

Nick then looked at Sarah, and shouted at her.


And then: YOU ARE SUCH AN ASSHOLE!!! Nick screamed.







It was ridiculous.

Sarah said she didn’t know what else to do, so she turned around in the other direction and ran away.



Literally ran as fast as she could to the exit.


(That is the sign of a really, really bad date.)

“SARAH!” she heard Nick scream, but she didn’t dare turn around.

Why would she?

SHE wasn’t an asshole and SHE wasn’t going to be talked to that way.

And SHE wasn’t going to be around for when Nick got in trouble for being unruly, or for when he’d get punched in the face by a college frat guy.

She took a cab back to her apartment and cut Satan, uhhh, I mean Nick off completely.

(Sorry, he sounded like someone else. LOL)




Tuesday, January 19, 2016


Brad didn’t have “hoes in different area codes” in the traditional sense (which, MOM, is when someone has a different woman in each city that he visits).

No, Brad had just one hoe in another area code and he’d fly that hoe to whatever area code he was visiting on business.

And it was conveniently an area code that did not include his girlfriend Becky.

This other girl was not a jet-setting prostitute. She was his ex-girlfriend (ugghhh), a woman named Amy who Becky had known about, who lived across the country in Seattle.

My friend Becky dated Brad for a YEAR after being introduced through mutual friends. They hit it off immediately. 

Six months into the relationship, he told Becky not to renew her lease, but to move in with him instead.


They had gone on vacations together, got a DOG, and were seemingly committed to a domesticated life together.

Brad travelled a lot for work (LOL), but he was successful and made good money and Becky didn’t mind babysitting the dog. She was happy.

But then, as Becky was helping Brad clean up clutter for her impending move, she found a photo of Brad and Amy with a hand-written letter about how much Amy missed him and how Amy was hanging pictures of him all over her apartment in Seattle.

Becky noticed that it was written and sent within the past six months.


"Ummmm....what's going on here?" Becky asked.

Brad swore that nothing was going on, that Amy was just “desperate and lonely” and was grasping at straws.

(When really he was racking up his frequent flyer miles to fly Amy all over the country.)

“I want you to move in with me,” Brad insisted to Becky.


Becky moved forward with Brad, even though her instincts said something was off.

And it just got worse.

“At one point, he left for a ‘business trip’ to Atlanta. When he was supposed to come home, he said he got a flat and needed to stay the night because no shops were open to fix it,” Becky recalls.


They both went home to their respective hometowns for Thanksgiving and even though they texted or talked every day, when Brad got back, he stopped answering all Becky’s calls and texts. 

...Which isn’t the most comfortable thing when you’re planning to move in with that person in the next two months.

Becky said after two days of not returning her calls (Unacceptable, this was her boyfriend), she drove over to his apartment and barged in with her key. Brad was asleep.

Becky was so mad that she woke him up, hurled her key at him and told him, thoughtfully, “Screw you!! Where the H have you been?”

Brad’s response started out nice.

"I'm so sorry...you're the most beautiful woman I've ever been with, and you're so kind and...”

But then it got worse.

“Well, I'm sorry... I just.... I am going to get back together with Amy."


“We’ve been talking...” Brad continued.


(Ed note: Talking. Hahahahaha)

Becky went numb.

Talking??? Talking at Thanksgiving???


Becky told Brad she couldn’t understand how they could have started up again because Amy lives 4,000 miles away.

Then she thought some more.

“WHEN did this happen??” she asked. “Seriously tell me when this happened.”

Brad admitted that it wasn’t “just Thanksgiving” (BUT IT WAS THANKSGIVING TOO...JERK). 

Brad had ALSO slept with Amy in Atlanta, slept with her in North Carolina, basically slept with her all up and down the East Coast—“he was literally flying all over the country to hook up with her and paying for her tickets, too,” Becky said.


Of course, Brad couldn’t be bothered to tell Becky about his SIDE HOE during the entire year they were together, but now he had to tell her because...Amy was coming to stay with him for the next three months.





Way to wait until the last possible minute, asshole!!!

“And he said something like, ‘I'm sorry. I want to be friends...’” Becky recalls.



It was the absolute worst.

What guy with a girlfriend invites his ex to come live with him for three months??? 
This dude was almost 40.

Becky cursed the day she met him, cursed all the stupid promises he made and promptly re-signed the lease to her own apartment.

Several months later, Becky got a text from Brad asking if she wanted to go on a walk with the dog.

Becky ignored him AND his subsequent texts about getting together “as just friends.”

“What the hell is going on?” she fumed to a mutual friend.

And then the revelation: “I come to find out he literally texted me the day after Amy left to go back to Seattle.”





Tuesday, January 12, 2016


My favorite part is Victor’s response when his girlfriend (my friend Amy) found a naked picture of a girl on his phone with an early morning, “I wish I was waking up with you” text.

She and I are just friends," Victor said. "I can’t HELP what she sends me."



Personally, I’ve always said that men and women can be “just friends,” but then again, I’m not a boy with a penis, so I really don’t know both sides of the story.

Because the other side of the story is that some guys will pretend to be “just friends” with girls when HAHAHAHAHAHAHA they’re actually cheating on you with them.


Amy and Victor had known each other for a very long time but their timing and paths never crossed right. One day the stars aligned and they were madly in love and moved in together.

Amy was suspicious when Victor introduced her to his friend Liza with thoughtful details, like, “she and I used to work together at the bar...” and “she’s hilarious and amazing," but he never arranged for all three of them to hang out.

Victor would make it well-known that he and Liza were texting like crazy when Amy would ask him what the EFF he was doing staring at his phone all night.

He would use all kind of excuses. Like the night he and Amy went on a date to a cozy bar and his phone was blowing up with texts and calls, he told her, “Oh, it’s Liza. She’s really upset right now and wants to talk.”


It would start all kinds of fights.

“She KNOWS you have a girlfriend, right?” Amy yelled. “Because she’s disrespecting me now.”

“Yes. We’re just friends.”


It was completely disappointing. And embarrassing. 

Victor continued to take full advantage of this “friendship,” and made plans for a “significant other-free” night with Liza (Ed note: HELLL NO) and then come home SHIT-FACED.

That was the last straw.

Amy screamed at him about how “friendly” the friendly drinks got, but he repeated the same line over and over.

“We’re just friends,” he said. “NOTHING IS GOING ON.”


Since Amy isn’t stupid (well aside from dating Victor), she took his phone while he was asleep the next morning and looked in horror to see a NAKED PICTURE of Liza and “I WISH I WAS WAKING UP WITH YOU” text.

“I can’t HELP what she sends me,” Victor said.




Obviously, Amy broke up with him. And obviously, Victor, fully committed, made a big stink about it, telling her she was just jealous and crazy.

Insisting to the death that he never cheated, blaming the breakup on her “trust issues” and paranoia.






Victor's instance that “nothing was going on” was the most infuriating. 

Like...do you think girls are stupid?? Newsflash: people don’t get constant texts and NAKED photos from other girls when they are in a relationship


“Nothing is going on. Nothing is going on. Nothing is going on.”

Right...except for the fact that oh, TWO MONTHS after Victor and Amy broke up, Liza announced she was pregnant. With his child.


Of course.

That baby will need lots of friends.


Tuesday, January 5, 2016


I don’t know a whole lot about memory loss among guys in their early 30s (I’m not a DOCTOR) but there are some guys out there who seem to forget that they say things like, “I love you” and “you’re the missing puzzle piece in my life” because they break up with you a month later and refer to the relationship as “whatever this is.”



OK, maybe that’s just Finn.

Finn is this guy who dated my friend Morgan for six months and used the above line extra thoughtfully when he broke up with her two days after her birthday.

“...or whatever day that was.”


Finn and Morgan met when he worked as a bartender and things moved fast right away. He was cute, sweet and in love with her immediately.

But I guess Finn can't be blamed for breaking up with her two days after her birthday since he forgot about her birthday and DIDN’T GET HER ANYTHING.

Wait...this sounds familiar....

Was this memory loss???

No. I take it back. He did get her a present.

He got her a Taylor Swift calendar.




And then he showed her a picture on his phone of what he was going to get her.

But didn’t.


...it was a portable heater.


It was all so disappointing.

Morgan was super hurt by the fact that this guy who professed all his love for her didn’t do anything special.


She invited him over two days after to “talk ” about where they stand.

“This is how I feel about us and what is going on??" Morgan said. 

But she said Finn shut down completely. No more missing puzzle pieces.

"I think we might have...communication issues," she added when he stood there not speaking. 

Finn left her house somehow confused by how upset she was, and then didn’t return her calls and text messages for a week.


He finally responded with: "You're right. We have to stop seeing each other, or whatever this is."



"He would tell me he wanted to marry me and buy a house with me all the time" Morgan said.


“You’re the fucking worst,” she texted back.



(She actually wrote that.) Awesome.

Morgan was completely blindsided and distraught. First a ruined birthday, then a ruined after birthday and Christmas was right around the corner.

Who was this guy???

A guy with memory loss.

...Because that is seriously the only excuse I can think of for why OH WHY Finn decided that on Christmas day...TWO WEEKS LATER...he would send Morgan a picture of his niece playing with the PRESENT Morgan bought for her.


Taylor Swift should write a song about him!

...While we all remove him from our memories.


Tuesday, December 22, 2015


Important announcement: There is never an appropriate time to announce to your ex via text message that you are hooking up with someone else.

Is this not common sense? 

I feel like this should be included in the “All I ever needed to know I learned in kindergarten” posters.


We’re supposed to be in our 30s people!!!!

And...(insert Donald Trump voice): Isn’t that more of a chick thing to do???

(Hey, I didn’t say it. Donald Trump said it.)

But, as it turns out, 30-something guys are committing this crime. 

Specifically Chris, a guy my friend Blair dated and lived with, for almost a year.

Chris decided that the most reasonable way to tell Blair that he had found someone else...you know, A WEEK AFTER they broke up...was with this thoughtful text:

"Something great happened...I hope you're okay with it."



Blair and Chris first met in college and then reconnected after graduation. They dated for about six months and then Chris moved in. 

Everything was going great until Blair got laid off and couldn’t find a job in their college town. 

She said she was tired of the city, and mulled over the idea of moving across the country to a bigger city, to be closer to her family.

“You can come with me!” she offered. 

Chris said no, he loved his job and his family was there.

So it was settled....awkwardly.

She decided to move and tried to make their...errr...situation as nice as possible for him...even telling him he didn’t have to pay rent for the remaining TWO months before she left.

Blair said Chris was seemingly supportive of her new life until one week until her move date when he officially broke up with her and moved back in with his parents. 


Blair said she understood, and they agreed to stay in touch and be friends (Ed note: LOL) and they were still talking and texting like everything was normal until exactly ONE WEEK into her living in a new city.

Blair’s bags weren’t even unpacked.

"Something great happened...I hope you're okay with it,” Chris texted.


Of course she’d be OK with something great happening!

Was he going to join her in the big city? Did he win the lottery???


“I met someone fantastic,” Chris wrote.



Blair said Chris went on and on about this new girl he met... uhhhh.... “and then he didn’t understand why I wasn’t excited for him,” Blair said.


He really expected her to be excited for him?

What the hell is wrong with this guy?
Why couldn’t he have just said, “I’m moving on, don’t contact me?”

Why is he making her envision him with a “fantastic” hookup?



This is beyond kindergarten.

No posters can help him.


Monday, December 21, 2015

Bucket list: Washington D.C.

I went to Washington D.C. for the very first time a month ago, and stamp “I’m old” on my forehead because I checked off an item on my bucket list (I HAVE A BUCKET LIST, I’M OLD) and I spent hours upon hours enjoying the shit out of museums.

(I know...who is this girl??)

I really, really loved D.C. and 100 percent plan on returning because I only saw a fraction of the Smithsonian Natural History Museum and I need to see all of it. 

24,000 pounds of elephant!!

I went to D.C. because my friend Byron and his girlfriend Kelly just moved there from Charleston and JetBlue flies direct for under $100 round-trip.


Oh, and Byron is a Marine, and he got me a ticket to the Marine Corps Ball.



 Marine sandwich!


But let me start from the beginning.

I got to D.C. on a Saturday morning and Byron took me straight to the White House, since seeing the White House is on my bucket list.

Mind you, it wasn’t “going inside of the White House.” Just seeing it, period. It’s the most American thing you can do!

It looked exactly like it did in the TV show House of Cards. Byron pointed out all the cameras on the top of the building, there were scary dogs on leashes walking around the perimeter.

I saw the people that have been protesting outside the White House 24/7/365 since 1981 (!!!!) because they don't want nuclear weapons to exist.

From what I gather, the couple live in a tent on the pedestrian mall avenue right across the street from the White House and no one can legally arrest them.


(I wonder what they did with them during House of Cards filming.)

Other D.C. observations: There are runners everywhere on a Saturday morning. Granted, it’s a gorgeous trail along the bank of the Potomac River, but I was in awe at the sheer number of runners that early in the morning.


It looked like a marathon.

Byron and I walked around to all the monuments within walking distance of the White House (Jefferson, Lincoln, Martin Luther King) and I read all the signs and quotes, and it did not go unnoticed that the statements said by leaders long ago are still important, relevant words for a functioning and free society.

Nice one, T. Jeff!!!!

(I photoshop underlined it. There is no graffiti at the monument)

The next stop was the Natural History Museum, which was FREE admission (what kind of city is this???) but we only had time to walk through the mammals exhibit.

(The human population section was really, really crowded. Haha)

"How can anyone go through this museum and still not believe in evolution?” I asked aloud.

Look at how giraffes didn’t used to have very long necks, but do now because the trees they eat from got taller and they had to adapt to survive!!! 

(No really, look at them. The entire exhibit is taxidermy animals.)

Look at the black bears that accidentally ended up in the Artic that died because they couldn’t hunt prey by blending into the snow!! 

And now they’re all white because those are the only ones who lived long enough to procreate!!! (White fur started out as a birth defect.)

This was the first mammal on Earth. This is your father.


“People who don’t believe in evolution don’t go to museums,” a stranger replied.



That night, we went to the Marine Corps ball.



The ball was held at a hotel and it was a fancy dinner and party for the Marine Corps’ 240th birthday.  

Before dinner, Marines did a lot of synchronized marching and symbolic carrying of flags and a bagpipe played Amazing Grace and every time I hear that song on a bagpipe, I get teary-eyed.

Then, I got more teary-eyed at the video we watched from the Marine’s Commandant (the guy in charge) with recorded interviews with retired Marines about fighting for country and sacrificing for each other and I was proud to even be sitting in their company.

And then everyone got drunk and danced around.


(She said yes.)

The next day, Byron and I went to a Saints game, since their schedule happened to have them playing the Redskins and tickets were pretty cheap, but I don’t want to talk about that game.

(Silver lining: it was the prettiest NFL stadium I have ever been to in my life.)

On Monday, I had the day to myself and went to more museums: the Newseum, a nod to my profession, and the International Spy Museum, recommended by Byron, and 50 percent off admission THANKS Groupon.

Since these museums were in China Town, I Yelp’d the best Chinese restaurant (China Boy) and ate delicious shrimp stir fry on the street on the way to the Newseum, which predictably made me depressed since no one reads newspapers anymore.

But then, I got to visit my dear friend Katy who works for the Wall Street Journal at her office, and saw all the editors and reporters on the entire floor and it restored my faith in journalism.

Never forget. 

At the Spy Museum, I got to pretend to be a florist from Sweeden going to London for a fake mission.

I LOVED the spy museum and now feel foolish not knowing we have so many government spies. 

I saw professional lock picks, cameras the size of a quarter, cyanide pills actually issued BY THE C.I.A. and holy shit, we REALLY didn’t get along with Russia in the 1960s, did we???

A photo posted by Genevieve (@jennyjenny504) on

Sooner than I wanted (I didn't even have time to see the parade of James Bond cars!! Rude.) it was time for me to leave D.C. 

I took the subway to the airport (PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION ---WHAT A CONCEPT!) and seamlessly checked in and boarded in under an hour -- another thing I had never seen before!!

Well done Capital City! 

The city of Marine dreams and White House bucket lists!

Bonding with strangers at the overcrowded human population exhibit over evolution.

And rectal spy kits.

That is not a rectal spy kit. 

Thank you Byron and Kelly!!!


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