TOOLBAG TUESDAY

I’ve long said that local stand-up comedy sucks, unless you live in New York.

Which is unfortunate, because I love stand-up comedy.

I mean, I’m all for getting out there and being brave and shit, but more often than not, I feel like I’m at the “worst of” auditions for American Idol, wondering if they are serious, wondering who told them they could sing were funny.

Something that IS funny?

The worst date in the world that my friend Liz went on with this guy William…where they went to a local stand-up comedy show.

There are plenty elements to a bad date, and William hit them all on the head.

Liz and William met on an online dating site (but had mutual friends, so it was more like a setup) and when she arrived at his apartment to go out to dinner, he told her he wanted her to drive them to a restaurant a few miles away, even though he lived in an area where they could walk somewhere.

Liz obliged, because he caught her off guard and she didn’t want to be difficult, but NEWSFLASH: DON’T ASK A GIRL TO DRIVE ON A FIRST DATE.

When Liz asked him where they were going, he said the name of the most generic, worst reputation Italian place in town. Seriously it has 1 star on Yelp and has been reviewed 2,000 times.

“There?” Liz asked, pissed that she was wasting gas to go the Italian version of McDonalds.

NEWSFLASH: DON’T TAKE A GIRL TO A RESTAURANT THAT IS THE SHITTIEST IN TOWN ON A FIRST DATE.

“Yea, there,” William said. “It’s open mic comedy night. I go there all the time.”

Did William ASK her if she liked stand-up comedy? No, no he did not.

Liz gave him a side-eye, because she doesn’t love stand-up comedy and that was the exact opposite of what she had envisioned for their first date.

She grudgingly parked and walked with William into the horrible restaurant. The “comedy” had already started. There were five people in the audience.

Liz said there was a fat guy on stage talking about how women get the better side effects of acne medication because HE wishes he’d have sore breasts, too, so he could rub them and play with them.

Ummm.

Crickets.

But you already HAVE boobs, Liz wanted to yell.

Hahaha

She then realized that when you go on a first date to a stand-up comedy show, it eliminates all conversation between the people on the date. 

You can’t even look at each other, you must stare at the fat man on stage.

...With the boobs.

After two comedians had painfully gone on stage, Liz looked around and wondered where the waitress was.

“Are they…serving dinner?” she whispered to William.

“I’ll check,” he said.

William returned with two beers (not her preferred brand, thanks for asking) and Liz figured that he had alerted a server. When no server arrived, she asked him about it.

“Oh, yea, I already ordered for us at the counter,” he said, his eyes not leaving the stage.

Uhhhhhhhh

Excuse me?

“Excuse me?” Liz asked. “What do you mean you ordered for us?”

NEWSFLASH: ASK THE LADY WHAT SHE WANTS TO EAT!!!!

JESUS.

“Yea,” he said taking a sip of his beer. “I ordered us a pizza with sausage and mushrooms.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SAUSAGE AND MUSHROOMS??

SAUSAGE AND MUSHROOMS??!?!

What chick wants to eat a pizza with sausage and mushrooms?

(Answer: no one. Put some veggies and colorful cuteness on that plate, damn.)

“So, you basically ordered a pizza for YOURSELF and I’m going to have a slice of it?” Liz asked.

Hahahahahaha

William didn’t respond.

Hahahahahaha

So there Liz was, at the worst restaurant in the world, about to eat a slice of the worst pizza in the world watching the worst stand-up comedy in the world.

And since she was unable to talk to William about his life and likes and hopes and dreams, etc. etc., the only thing she had to go on as far as getting to know him was what he found funny in the comedy.

…which she said was anything that degraded women.

“I mean, those bitches that sleep with you on a first date….you’re not going to MARRY them!” said a comedian, who Liz said has probably NEVER slept with a girl.

William laughed his ass off at that, too hard in fact, and Liz gave him another side eye.

Liz said she didn’t crack a smile the entire time, and actually frowned when the mostly brown pizza arrived. It was a small.

Hahahahahahahaha

He ordered a small!

One slice for you!

Liz said she took one small bite of one slice of pizza but it was so gross, she left it on her plate as William inhaled the remaining slices.

He didn’t even notice that she hadn’t had any of her dinner when the server came to pick up the plates.

Who doesn’t pay attention to the fact that their dinner date hasn’t eaten anything?

I’m running out of NEWSFLASH-es here.

The next comedian on stage started talking about herpes.

Liz said it was the most uncomfortable date she’s ever been on. Hungry, pissed and annoyed at this choice of venue, she then turned her anger towards William.

He came here all the time??? And he thought this would be an appropriate first-date setting??

(I asked her to try and remember more horrible jokes and bits but she told me there were no jokes whatsoever.)

After all she could stand, she told William that she wasn’t feeling well (i.e. stomach pains from hunger) and he remained completely clueless as he raved about the comedians all the way back to the car.

By the time they got back to her car, Liz already had a speech ready for why she had to go home immediately.

“It’s just been a really long week…” she said.

“Oh, what’s this?” William asked, noticing a painting of a bird in the backseat.

“That’s one of those drink-wine-and-paint-a-picture things I did with some friends for a bachelorette party,” Liz said.

“Yea?” William said. “I’d offer to buy it from you, but I spent my last five dollars on that pizza.”

Um.

What??

Liz was confused.

“That pizza cost five dollars?” she asked.

“No…that was a joke…I was saying your painting was only worth five dollars,” he said.

………..

Crickets.

Yea.

He would have fit in perfectly on stage.

On the bright side, kicking him out of her car was the funniest thing that happened all night.

-Jenny

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

They say New Orleans is a small city because everyone knows everyone (or their mamma), but no one ever says why or how everyone knows everyone.  

I know why.

It’s because you don’t say just say you’re from New Orleans in front of a stranger who is ALSO from New Orleans without following that up with a five-minute conversation about where you both went to high school, where you both grew up, and if you know so-and-so, who ALSO went to that high school and who ALSO grew up in that neighborhood.

And you always know someone in common. 

So now you’ve made a new NOLA native friend, who will report back to the mutual friend that you’ve met.  And the friend circle gets bigger. 

It’s…science.

This is especially the case with people (New Orleans natives or not) who are living outside of their home state, very far away from it, and meet people who are also from their home state.

For example, if two strangers from North Dakota notice their matching IDs at a bar in Florida, they’re going to have a conversation about North Dakota and why they’re in Florida. 

At least a little conversation.

AmIRight??

I’M RIGHT.

It’s…science.

This is why, if you’re going to date TWO WOMEN AT THE SAME TIME, make sure they are not from the same, uh, out-of-state state.

Because chances are if they bump into each other and find out they are both from the SAME FAR-AWAY PLACE, they’re going to have a conversation and maybe even try to be friends. 

This dumbass guy, Chris, did not take this into consideration. 

He decided to date two women at the same time, who were both from Michigan. All three of them lived in South Carolina.

Chris met his girlfriend(s) in one city in South Carolina but moved to a different city to get his Master’s degree, which was about a two-hour drive away. He was in a long-distance relationship with them both.

And he was properly playing the shit out of them both because they both thought they were in an exclusive relationship with him.

And then seriously, seriously, seriously, this happened: When Chris was away at school, the two women met randomly…at a bar.

In any other circumstances, they wouldn’t have said more than two words to each other, but they found out that they both were from Michigan. 

“Ahhh!!! What part?”

“What are you doing here??”

(Go blue!!??)

The two women were now BFFs at the bar, chatting it up, asking if the other would ever move back, asking what they were up to in South Carolina.

Oh, you’re waiting on your boyfriend to finish up school??? 

YOU TOO?!?!?

!!!!!!!!!!!!

It took under 15 minutes for them to realize that their boyfriends had the same name, and were both getting the same Master’s degree at the same school.

They turned....red.

Then, THEY EACH PULLED OUT THEIR PHONES AND SHOWED THE OTHER A PICTURE OF CHRIS. 

Yea… the same guy. 

THE SAME GUY!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jaws dropped.

WTF!!!!?!

I would DIE. 

DIE!!!

They were both horrified. 

Chris was two hours away, clueless.

IDIOT.

NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF CAMRADERIE!!!  

HOMETOWN PRIDE!!!

Ugh.

Two girlfriends at the same time. 

Classic toolbag behavior. 

But I guess they got off good - They didn't need to go through his text messages to find out he was cheating. 

No one had to "catch him in the act."

No, thanks to the great state of Michigan, they were able to uncover the asshole with very little fuss. Without him even being there.

And then Chris went from having TWO girlfriends to having NO girlfriends. 

And since the scene played out so publicly, everybody now knows what happened and exactly what Chris did.

Which is no good in a small city.

It might get back to his mamma.

-Jenny

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

I have a question: how do you NOT know someone is unhappy and wants to break up with you...while you simultaneously think everything is going so well that you suggest moving in and/or getting a dog together??

Aren’t there usually “I don’t like you” clues??

Troubled waters???

Big fights???

Unfortunately, not always.

As it turns out, everyday people can be really good actors, pretending like everything is GREAT when they’re really plotting their escape.

Like, Oscar-worthy shit.

I remember when I was just out of college, my then-boyfriend’s roommate asked us if we could leave their apartment for a few hours because his girlfriend was coming over and he was going to break up with her.

!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Haha)

We did, and when we came back, we saw him on the living room couch holding a tiny, black kitten.

“She brought over a kitten!” he wailed, holding up the tiny thing. “She wanted us to ‘raise it’ together. And then I broke up with her. And she LEFT the kitten.”

Hahahahahahaha

Hahahahahahahaha

Hahahahahahahahaha

“Talk about being on different pages, am I right??” I joked, to no one’s amusement.

(He ended up keeping the kitten and I had the privilege of naming it “Spinach,” because I figured spinach is good for you, even if you don’t really want it.)

Anyway.

What was going on where SHE thought it was a good idea to CO-PARENT a kitten and he wanted to end things completely???

How does that happen???

But then I kept hearing about this over and over…blind sighted breakups…and came to the reasonable conclusion: people are really good actors.

And this week’s OSCAR goes to….Oscar, this guy who dumped my friend Rachel last night (!!!!!!) totally out of the blue.

They were both in their 30s, had dated for almost two years (!!!) and Rachel thought they would get married. (and maybe get a kitten together.)

Now, I know what you’re thinking: You’re thinking that it can’t possibly have been out of the blue. Rachel must have ignored signs and warnings, blah blah blah.

No.

No, she didn’t.

She said Oscar gave her no indication that he was unhappy. They never fought, they never argued, they had the same taste in everything. They would say love-y things to one another and go on trips.

They were both ambitious in their careers. He spent the night so often he had a drawer full of stuff in her apartment (that she now has the awkward task of returning to him somehow), they had mutual friends who they both adored and adored them (and were equally as surprised) by the news.

I mean...TWO YEARS!

Now, I understand the whole, “I’m just not that into you” thing.

Except that Oscar WAS.

She wasn’t delusional about it!

Every single thing he did and said indicated that he was happy, and happy with her.

When the knife came down, he explained simply: “I’ve changed my mind about us and I haven’t been happy for the past month.”

The past month!??

What???

Rachel began reeling.

What do you mean the past MONTH??

The past month that, for her birthday, Oscar drove with her to her parent’s house hours away and spent the entire weekend with them???

That same month that, as a gift to her parents, HE BROUGHT THEM A FRAMED PHOTO OF THE FOUR OF THEM STANDING TOGETHER LIKE A BIG, HAPPY FAMILY???

THAT MONTH???

Ugh.

To add further insult, this “mind change” also happened TWO months after he went with her to a family members’ wedding in Costa Rica.

Where they posed together in ALL THE PHOTOS in the sunset.

…WHILE SAYING I LOVE YOU.

(I guess you should always change your mind AFTER a destination wedding trip.)

Why would someone continue to go through all the motions of being happy and in love when they’ve already, secretly decided it was over???

Do you know how much that screws people up??

You think Rachel is going to NOT be terrified of this B.S. happening again???

“Oh, yes, I know you tell me you love me and give my parents sentimental crap and do every single thing as if I'm your one and only, but ONE DAY you will ‘be unhappy’ for no specific reason and leave.”

Ugh.

How embarrassing.

Could they at LEAST have had ONE fight???

The least he could do was communicate his unhappiness before it was, what...too late???!?

There was no suggestion of working out these unknown issues. No therapy options, no reconsideration, nothing. 

I’ve changed my mind. 

End scene.

And, can we address the fact that it only took a month of him being unhappy to peace out on a two-year relationship??

A month!!!!!!!

I’ve had bags of spinach last longer than that.

Hissssssssss

-Jenny

Thank you, Ann

Do you remember that 90s TV show Dharma and Greg?

Where two opposite personalities dated and lived together and Greg would have to clean up after, and reign in, crazy, free-spirited Dharma?

Hi. I’m Dharma.

My former roommate Ann? She’s Greg.

No, we didn’t date each other, but almost everything else about our home life in New Orleans was like the show, including how I would get the benefit of having everything in our apartment be clean, tidy and pretty while she had the benefit of witnessing all the various pickles I got myself into.

And knowing where the next ridiculous New Orleans party was going to be held.

Or what to dress as for Mardi Gras.

Or who on my kickball team was an A-hole.

(she never cared, haha)

During my three-year stint in New Orleans, Ann was my roommate the entire time, even when we moved apartments and she could have very well gotten out of our living arrangement.

(My proudest moment to date haha)

I like to think we were a Ying-Yang match, me lighting incense and having my crazy friends come over unannounced, her showing me how to work the DVR and trying to teach me how to have less clutter in my life.

I don’t think I’ve met anyone who is as level-headed and self-assured as Ann. Neurotic only about wiping the countertops, not about how EVERYONE hates me or how I look like a BOY in every single photo (um, for example.)

Ann and I knew each other in high school in New Orleans, but didn’t keep in touch until I moved back ten years later and needed a roommate, and she needed to move out of her one-bedroom apartment because of a stalker/creeper who lived next door.

We found a suitable 2-bedroom apartment in Mid-City and plopped our lives down together right by the bayou.

And, ya’ll….for the last three years, I’ve been spoiled.

SPOILED!

Spoiled by my grown-up friend and her grown-up furniture and grown-up decorating skills.

Spoiled by the fact that the plates in the kitchen are in the correct place and that all the frying pans are in a place by themselves, away from the pots.

…Which are away from the baking dishes.

(You know, in case one day I decide to bake something.)

It was a busy three years for me in New Orleans. I had seven jobs in three years (and for an entire year, I had three different jobs simultaneously) and a hefty social life and I would regularly crash and burn (like the NON-grown up I am) and Ann was always there to make everything better as I face-planted onto the couch.

She’d laugh at my pickles.

She’d put things into perspective.

She knew that putting on episodes of The Office always made me feel better.

I always looked forward to walking into our apartment, which was always clean and organized and smelled good. And when I would sheepishly thank her for doing all that, she’d wave her hand away at me like it was no big deal.

I miss that.

She’s going to be a good wife one day.

When I asked her if she missed living with me, she replied that she misses “seeing blonde hair in the drain.”

Haha

Dharma.

But I miss living with Ann. I miss our French Quarter adventures, I miss dancing at French Quarter Fest (to Latin music). I miss how fancy Ann is and exclusively drinks champagne. I miss borrowing her clothes which were always hanging in her closet in their correct spot (what a concept!)

I even miss how serious she is about LSU football, turning the sound almost completely off while sitting a foot away from the TV with her head covered by a blanket haha.

(Is that how grown-ups do it??)

In her honor, I re-organized my entire kitchen when I moved back to South Carolina.

BAKING DISHES GO HERE, ya’ll

I’ve taken her life skills and have tried to channel her life attitude whenever I feel overwhelmed by nothing and everything all at once.

She’s made me a better person.

Not quite a grown up.

But a better person.

You know, when I’m face-planted on my own couch.

:)

THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING ANN!!!!











(Ann, standing among a likeness of my bedroom floor.)

-Jenny

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

I’ve never seen Mad Men, but I’m pretty sure this dickhead who interviewed my twin sister for a job would fit right in.

…but just to be sure…that’s the TV show where men don’t respect women or view them as equal in the workplace, right?

Gotcha.

My twin sister, Joy, went on a job interview a few years ago for a graphic designer position, thinking that the company was looking to hire a graphic designer.

The job posting said graphic designer. Joy submitted all of her materials, resume, etc. that said “GRAPHIC DESIGNER” all over it.

But the man behind the desk didn’t read that part.

He somehow re-arranged the words “graphic designer” to say “verbal punching bag.” (I know, that’s too many letters. But, he’s an idiot).

…And then he tried out his new punching bag.

Because he was never actually considering her for the job, he really just wanted to yell at her.

At someone.

I think he was literally trying to extinguish joy.

His opening line was pretty killer, too, and a thoughtful reminder to everyone in the post-1960s 1970s 1980s 1990s 2000s 2010- world that sexism is still alive and well.

“Do you CRY when you get yelled at?” he asked immediately, and angrily.

!!!!!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

HAHAHAHAHA

His opening line.

!!!!!!!

(Ed note: Ten bucks says the male candidates were NOT asked that question.)

“Do…you…yell at your employees at lot?” Joy responded, snarkily.

Of course he ignored her.

“You know, EVERYONE WANTS THIS JOB,” he said. It was a little surprising because Joy had never heard of the company before applying.

Then, completely out of left field, he continued, “...and I don’t want to hire you just so you can leave after six months to be a nanny in Italy!”

HAHAHAHAHA

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

WHAT??!!!?

WHO’S GOING TO ITALY?? 

WHO EVEN SPEAKS ITALIAN??

(Ed note: Ten bucks says that the male candidates were not given the Italian nanny scenario.)

Joy looked around the room for hidden TV cameras.

The man then explained how the job posting was NOT for a graphic designer, but for a manufacturing person who knows specs about printing and affixing labels on makeup bottles per government regulations.

(The job description never mentioned any of this.)

“So…you don’t need someone to actually design the labels…” Joy clarified.

“NO!” he screamed. “AND ALL OF YOU ‘GRAPHIC DESIGNERS’ NEED TO GET MORE SKILLS!” he yelled. 

“ALL OF YOU ARE APPLYING FOR THIS JOB, AND YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO ANYTHING!”

Hahahahahahahahahaha

You don’t know how to do anything.

(jab-jab-jab-punch -uppercut)

This man just met her. He had no idea what she was capable of doing.

“I mean, I don’t have TIME to train you, anyway,” he said, as Joy sat there wide-eyed.

(Joy later looked back at the job description which said, “industry experience preferred.”)

Without being asked, the man then explained to Joy why she wasted HIS time showing up at his office.

“We already have the PERFECT candidate,” he said. “And we’re going to hire him.”

!!!!!!

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Of course it’s totally appropriate to tell someone who took time out of their day to go to your job interview that you already hired someone else.

And of course it’s a “him.”

A him who won’t flee to Italy to become a nanny.

(seriously WTF??)

“Well, it looks like you found the right candidate then,” Joy said and snatched back her portfolio.

“A WORD OF ADVICE?” he said to her on the way out. “YOU REALLY NEED TO INCREASE YOUR SKILLS!”

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Joy didn't mention that HE needed to increase his job description skills.

My God.

Is Mad Men hiring???

Because Joy is looking.

Skills: doesn’t cry when getting yelled at.

-Jenny