But, I Don’t Get It

Often, I find myself asking the question, “Why would someone do that?” I don’t believe everyone should do as I do, unless you’re my kid, then it’s a different story; but I do think the general public should not be so…. stupid.

Friends… please do not do the following:

Talk to someone in the locker room at the gym. While you’re naked. Okay, I get the fact that a locker room is meant for changing in and out of your gym clothes. I also understand that people get hot and sweaty, thereby warranting a shower (typically not done clothed). But for the love of all things sacred and holy, do not hold a conversation with me while all of your girl bits hang out. If I do not know you, I prefer total silence or meaningless chit chat. AS LONG AS YOU ARE DRESSED. This rule is especially true, if you are my coworker.

See, my workplace has a little gym and locker room, so I have been known to run into people with whom I work. I very carefully make idle chit chat only with the clothed and hustle in and out of the area, dressing as quickly as possible. This is really beneficial to us both. I do not need to see you in a meeting later, knowing that you have nips the size of bologna and you don’t have to picture the dolphin tattoo that sits on my hip.

Confession. I don’t have a tattoo, but you get the idea. The whole thing is too traumatizing.

Before anyone accuses me of being a prude and not appreciating the human body, I have a great appreciation of it. I also appreciate cute clothes. Wear them.

Leave the toilet unflushed. This one is aimed mostly at my kids who couldn’t find the handle to flush the toilet with both hands, but it can also apply to many, many members of society. Occasionally, when I am out and about, nature calls. I answer it, and then flush nature away. That’s normal. What’s not normal is leaving behind the physical evidence of your shark week, or shart week; either one. Even with the automatic flushing toilets, you can still flush them manually. I know, because I’ve done it. Leave no evidence behind! If not for your fellow womankind, at least for yourself (I can’t speak to the john; I haven’t used one since college). Haven’t you ever watched CSI? You’re leaving behind evidence there, people. If you commit a crime, the cops will retrace your steps and nail you based on the trail of poo you’ve left in the loo. True story.

Leave the house pantsless. This should be a no-brainer, but every day people are wandering around in the world with their

Am I Wearing Pants?

Image from Huffington Post

lower half completely exposed. Okay, not completely, but they are not really leaving much to the imagination. It is so much of a phenomenon, that the Huffington Post posted an infographic for people to figure out if they are among the pantsless.

At first I didn’t think much about whether or not people were wearing pants. Honestly, I assumed everyone would not leave the house unclothed. I also thought people would not chat with others while naked. I am often wrong.

What made me notice, was my daughter. She is very particular about what she wears. Leggings are her favorite, and if you offer her jeans, you are taking your life into your own hands. After day 564 of leggings, the girl had a growth sport, turning her from a cuddly toddler into a young child. With her gangly legs, the leggings starting looking less like pants and more like an underlayer for a skirt or dress.

I do not wear leggings, or anything that might cling to my body. I would hate to scare anyone. So I really wasn’t sure if leggings were acceptable. I surreptitiously looked at the women around me and realized they were not wearing pants. They were wearing tights with long shorts; see-through pants and t-shirts; yoga pants that let me know all about their genitalia; in other words, anything but pants.

It’s horrifying. All I can see are camel toes and cotton underwear. Is my daughter doomed to the same fate? Does Carter’s make leggings in an adult size 6? I must avert this crisis!

Complain. This one is almost impossible, especially when there is a boatload of snow on the ground (why, snow, why!?), or locusts are swarming your crops (why, bugs, why!?) but I’m talking more about friends frenemies who like to complain, when there is nothing to complain about.

There are women who have been trying to become pregnant for months and then complain about morning sickness when it happens; or who tell you all about someone else’s drama just to give them something to complain about (oh ma gawd! her husband is cheating! isn’t he awful!?); and complain about how hard their job is when they take ample vacations and work banker hours (sorry, bankers, but you do have it pretty good).

Dude. Brah. Love your life. There is a whole bunch of crap to complain about. You do not need to invent it.

Okay, friends. This ends your lesson on how not to be a total ass. Take it to heart, and wear pants!

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6 Comments

Filed under Martini Madness

6 responses to “But, I Don’t Get It

  1. Right on! I’m with you on every point. I had a girlfriend once who spent her entire time complaining about or gossiping about other people. She made fun of gifts that she got. She made fun of clothing other people wore. It was tiresome after a while and I melted away from her as soon as I could.

    I’m with you on the naked part. In fact, I wish locker rooms had more of those little dressing booths that you sometimes see. The fact that they are almost always occupied when you want one, makes the point that most people don’t want to see each other naked. Heck, I don’t want to see myself naked! In fact, we took out the full-length mirror that was on our closet door.

    Like

  2. Sarah (est. 1975)

    I agree with all of your points except “Complain” only because I could never, NEVER actually hold myself accountable to that standard and therefore I probably shouldn’t hold others accountable to it.

    You dig? (I told you I was from the seventies!)

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    • I agree. And lord knows I complain; my poor husband has to hear me bitch about the picnic ants that have invaded the kitchen. But, I think the complaining that bugs me is the kind where someone is doing it just to get the spotlight on themselves, or seem to be doing it because they know no other way to interact with people.

      Those special friends seem to be surrounded in a Pigpen cloud of drama that gets on everyone else. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

      Like, ok? 😉

      Like

      • Sarah (est. 1975)

        Oh I totally know those people. My husband and I say they have a “drama bucket” and when it gets “empty” they rush around desperately trying to refill it.

        Like

      • Drama bucket. That’s great! Much better than “people who complain.” Look at you all smart and stuff. 🙂

        Like

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