Follow "AmyHasIssues" for some Laughs!


My blog is not meant to offend, hurt, insult, discriminate, accuse, piss off, or alienate anyone.  I write whatever pops into my head. I hope you enjoy them. 

-Amy Wade


I've been to the beach a few times this summer. I don't get picked up very often. In fact, almost never. Except the last time I went to the beach. A guy approached me even though I was lying down with my hat completely covering my face. He appeared out of nowhere. I turned my head and suddenly there were feet in front of me. 
"Hi, am I bothering you?"
I took off my hat and sat up. He wasn't bad-looking. Nice physique, big smile..
"Well, not really but-"
"I've been watching you and decided I should come over and say hi."
What a creepy thing to say. He plopped himself down in the sand, right next me. Too close. I inched back.
 "My name's Randy. What's yours?"
I hesitated.
"You're hot, Michelle."
I laughed out loud. What a jerk. Then he said,
"Well, I've only seen the front. You haven't gone in the water yet, so I don't know what your backside looks like."


I hate men.

My friend told me about another on-line dating website, called PLENTY OF FISH.COM. I was skeptical. It's a free sight, giving it huge potential for CHEAP men. I hate cheap people, whether it's a man or a woman. But, since I'm a risk taker(woo-hoo!) I filled out the profile. I hate filling out profiles. It's hard to describe yourself. It takes forever too. (I'm so impatient.) 
I was about to leave the site when I got a "wink" from someone. I admit, I got excited. Another wink came in. I couldn't figure out how tsee who was winking at me. I got frustrated. (More impatience.) All of a sudden two more winks came in! Wow! My head was getting big! But how the $#!k do I open them? There were so many icons to click. I was overwhelmed. A window popped up on the screen. Someone wanted to "chat" with me. I couldn't see who it was. I tried every icon. After sitting there for a YEAR, I gave up. I decided to check my emails.
I had twenty new emails. Half of them were spam, but the other half came from PLENTY OF FISH.COM. I clicked on the first one. A woman's picture came up. Uh oh. Did I check the wrong gender box? "Hello sweet girl!  I'm looking to cuddle... I have a bottle of wineI'm sitting in front of my fireplace, waiting for you. Give me a call..." 
Her code name was TENDER LOVE. 
I thought about it for a minute. She was beautiful. I do like to cuddle... 
I opened the next email.
There was no picture. It said, "You have great biceps- so big and strong..." Yuck! I hate my arms. They make me feel like a man. DELETE.    
The third one had a picture, but I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. It said, "I loved your profile, you are sweeter than butter. Let me spread you on my toast."
I was afraid to open another one. But of course I did.
No picture again. It said, "Hi. I'm bisexual. Do you go both ways?" 
I was getting discouraged.
The next one had a picture of a decent looking guy. Great! A man!
He wrote, "Hi beautiful! I loved reading your profile. Great pic, too. I bet your smile lights up a room."
I melted.   
"I'm a cross-dresser. Does that offend you?"
My life sucks.  


I have the worst luck with men.  I was at a coffee shop, pouring sugar into my coffee. Someone came up behind me. "Excuse me, may I ask you a question?" I turned around. A very handsome man was standing there, smiling. "Great teeth," I thought to myself. 
"Will you go out to dinner with me?" He asked. 
WOW. I was flattered. This had never happened to me before. I was instantly attracted. 
Of course, I said yes. I drove home fantasizing about him. I pictured us holding hands, walking along a beach, (cheesy, I know) making out under a moonlit sky.
He called me the next day. We talked for a while. He seemed intelligent and easy-going. He made me laugh. (BONUS POINTS) I liked him! He said he was going to take me to his favorite restaurant and that he had a surprise for me. I was excited! A surprise? On the first date? WOW. He was thoughtful, too. (more BONUS POINTS)
The name of the restaurant was "Viande Maison." It sounded so elegant! When we arrived, he helped me take off my coat. Then he pulled out my chair for me. I could smell his cologne. Wow. Sweet! (His bonus points were stacking up!) Things were going great. Conversation was easy. We had fun comparing hobbies and interests. I couldn't wait for my surprise to come. Finally, he said, (with great enthusiasm) "Okay, here's your surprise!"
I looked up to see a waiter holding two dinner plates. He set one of them in front of me. I almost gagged. It was a bloody-looking piece of meat. Before I could say anything, my date continued with,"It's the best veal in town! I butchered it myself!"

(LONG pause.)

"You what?"
"I'm a butcher!" He said. "I supply all of the veal to this restaurant!"
I couldn't believe my ears. Of all the men in the world, I find myself on a date with a BUTCHER.

I don't remember what he said after that. All I kept thinking about were baby cows stuck in tiny crates, unable to stand up or turn around, for months and months until they are slaughtered. I wanted to jump over the table and gouge his eyes out. I refrained.

Instead, I called a cab and cried the whole way home.
Later, my friend told me that "Viande Maison" was the French term for "Meat House." 



Oh dear. I'm pathetic. Another dating website? It's like shopping for a psychiatrist. You keep hoping the next one will be normal.

I received a "wink" from a guy. I clicked on his profile. He looked happy and goofy-like. It was appealing to me. I clicked on another photo of him. He was tall and handsome. Okay, this is good... I read about his lifestyle, interests, stats, etc. He's adventurous, (whatever- they all say that) loves beaches, hiking, nature, and animals. SCORE! I didn't need to go on. (I should have.)

I "winked" back.
He responded right away. (Oh my god he was on-line! Shit!)
"Do you want to have dinner with me?"
Wow. He didn't waste time. I thought about it for a second.
We planned to meet at his favorite Italian restaurant the following night.  He gave me directions. I arrived on time. (Miraculous!) When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw him standing by the entrance. He looked HOT. My hands started sweating. I hoped he had a nice personality.
I got out of my car. I knew he was watching me. Weird feeling. He waved and smiled as I walked over to him. (GREAT smile.)
"Hi, I'm Dan." He said.
Was he giving me his real name on the first date?
"Hi, I'm Am-Amanda," I didn't want to give him my real name yet.
"Is it really Amanda or do you have a stutter?"
Long pause.
"Excuse me?"
He laughed. "I'm joking with you! My real name is Dave."
"Oh." I laughed. Now I was confused. Should I tell him mine? Or was he still giving me a fake name? I said, "This on-line dating thing is really awkward."
"Yes, it is." He said.
Then he gave me a big, warm hug (it was an awesome hug) and said, "Let's go inside. It's cold and your teeth are chattering."
They were? I hadn't noticed.
He opened the door for me and the hostess led us to a little table by a window. 
"Can I take your coat?" He asked me.
I was melting.
I gave him my coat and he said, "Wow."
I didn't know what to say.
"You look stunning." He said.
"I do?" What a dumb reply.
He laughed. He had a deep, sexy laugh. "Yes, you do."
This date was going well! He pulled out my chair. I sat down. We ordered drinks. He had a Sam Adams. I ordered a glass of wine. I don't like wine.
"So, you're a boxer?" He asked me. "I read it in your profile."
I was flattered he read my profile. "I like to box, but I'm not really a boxer."
"I've never dated a woman who boxed."
"Me neither," I said.
We both laughed.
I loved his teeth. He had beautiful teeth. And his lips were sweet too.
"Do you hunt?" I asked him.
He laughed again. "No, I don't kill animals and I don't eat them, either."
I almost jumped across the table and made out with him.
We talked some more. The waitress came by and we ordered pasta and salad. I couldn't believe how well things were going. This guy was too perfect. RED FLAGS. 
He starting eating his pasta. So did I. I realized it had a cream sauce instead of marina. It was supposed to be marina sauce.  I didn't care. Apparently, he did. 
"This is wrong. We ordered marinara sauce."
"That's okay, this is delicious." I said. 
"But it's WRONG. She wasn't paying attention." He said it in a loud voice.
"The waitress. She probably didn't graduate from High School." As he said this, he started waving his hand in the air, trying to get her attention. I was HORRIFIED.
The waitress came over. He pointed at his pasta and said, "Does that look like marina sauce to you?"
OH MY GOD! He was patronizing her! What a DOUCHEBAG!
She apologized sincerely and picked up our plates.
Then he said, "Are you going to comp our meal? We shouldn't have to pay for it."
I think my jaw dislocated when it hit the floor.
"What an ASSHOLE." Did I say that out loud? I have a habit of doing that.
"Excuse me?" He looked shocked. I guess I did say it out loud.
I suddenly became witty. "Do I stutter?"
"That's it!" He shoved himself away from the table and threw his napkin down.
It was the most RIDICULOUS thing I'd ever seen.
"You pay the bill. I have another date lined up anyway." Then he walked out of the restaurant.
The waitress and I looked at each other.
"Dating website?" She asked me.

I hate MEN.



"I'm built like a house. My body is chiseled. I can do any sport- I ran a mile yesterday in 5 minutes. I'll cut my time to 4:50 by next week. The ladies call me The Black Stallion.
I was on the phone with an arrogant ASSHOLE from CUPID.COM. 
"Wow. That's amazing. Especially at your age." I was being sarcastic but he was so full of himself he didn't notice. I decided to amuse myself and let him talk some more.
"I'm good looking, and very successful but I won't discuss my salary. I'm blessed by the good Lord. He is my salvation. I go to church regularly. I noticed you didn't check a preference for religion. Are you a Christian? I don't date non-Christians but your profile was half-decent so I thought I'd check you out. Aren't you going to ask me why they call me a Stallion?" He said.
"I'll pass." 
He proceeded to tell me anyway.
"I'm great in bed." 
This on-line dating crap was getting old.
"And I'm Cindy Crawford."
I hung up. 
Wow. Nothing more to say about that one.


For the second time this summer, I got picked up at the beach. This time I was walking back to my car. I heard someone running up behind me. 
"Hi! Can I walk with you?"
A beautiful man with a gorgeous smile appeared next to me. 
"Sure!" I was excited. What a gentleman!
"You walk really fast." He said. "My name is Adam. What's yours?"
"Amy." I said, without thinking.
"Amy." He repeated. "I love the name Amy."
"Oh boy, here we go again." I thought to myself. Or did I say it out loud?
"Where are you going?" He asked me.
"To my car." I was already annoyed.
"So Amy, what do you do to stay fit? Your body is so muscular."
"I box whenever I can. It's my favorite sport." I walked even faster. Where the hell was my car? I couldn't remember where I parked.
"Wow- you box? No wonder you have guns!" He reached over and tried to squeeze my bicep.
I pulled my arm back.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. Forgive me. Tell me about yourself." 
It was hot and I was sweating. I didn't feel like talking to this JERK-OFF, but I didn't know how to get out of the situation. I just wanted to find my car and go home.
"Do you have any pets?" He asked me.
What an odd question.
"In fact, I do. I have a cat and a dog."
"Well, now you have two dogs." He said.
Huh? "No, I only have one dog."
"But I'm a dog." He said, almost proudly. "So now you have two."
"What did you just say?" I was totally floored.
"I'm kidding!" He said. "All men are dogs- but I'm a well-behaved dog." 
It took me a moment to respond.
"I can't believe you just said that."
He laughed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Don't take me so seriously!"
I was about to say something, but he kept on talking.
"You seem really uptight- your shoulders look stiff. I'm a masseuse- why don't you come to my place and I'll give you a free massage?"
I felt like I was in a cheesy porn movie from the 70's.  I finally found my car. THANK GOD.
I stopped and looked at him.
"Why don't you hang yourself? I have rope in my trunk."
He laughed. He thought I was joking.
I pulled a coil of rope from under my spare tire. 
"Here. This should work."
I tossed him the rope and got in my car. I peeled out.



I hear about it all of the time. "Success" stories from MATCH.COM. Whoopee! Hurray for you! (sarcasm) I must've been taking out the trash when it was my turn for success. I get all the losers. My last date was with a guy who had halitosis. I almost GAGGED when he walked into the bar. It hit me from across the room. All I could think was, "Oh my God. That's my date. Where do I hide?" I looked down as fast as I could. It was too late. He saw me.
"BE-TRUE! OVER HERE!" Oh my God. He was yelling my code name across the bar. I wanted to DIE.
"Hi! I'm Henry!"
It figured he had a name that began with an "H".
I couldn't believe how bad his breath smelled. It was like standing next to a pile of dead animals.
I turned my head as he gave me a hug. The next few minutes were challenging. I tried not to inhale. It sounded like I was out of breath when I introduced myself. (I was.)
"I'm Lisa," I said. (I never tell them my real name on a first date.) 
The bar was crowded, which made things worse because he had to lean into my ear when he spoke. I thought my ear was going to melt from the bacteria coming out of his mouth.
I noticed other bar patrons moving away from us. I'm sure they smelled it, too.
"Doesn't he know he has halitosis?" I thought to myself. All he had to do was breathe into the wind.
I pulled out a pack of gum. THANK GOD I had stopped at 7-11.
"I'm always worried I have bad breath," I said casually, as I put a piece in my mouth.  "Do you want one?" I practically shoved it in his face.
"No, I'm good, thank you." He said.
(long pause)
"Are you sure? It's REALLY good gum! The flavor lasts forever." I was giving it my best shot.
It didn't work. He refused the gum. I tried to be polite and endure the small talk, but I started getting dizzy from holding my breath. I stood up.
"I apologize, Henry. I'm not feeling well. I'm going home."
"Really?" He said. "You're not having a good time? Don't you want a beer or something?"
"I'm sorry. I really don't feel well. Thank you anyway." I grabbed my purse and hurried to the door. 
"LISA! Wait a minute!"
Oh my GOD. He was right behind me.
"Could you drop me off? I live close by."
Was he kidding? I couldn't believe this shit. "Where's your car?"
He paused before he answered.
"My brother has it."
Bullshit. What a loser.
I did not want this guy getting in my car. It would smell like DEATH for a year.
"How close do you live?" I asked.
"Just down the street."
It wasn't. 
I fumigated my car the next day and deleted my account from MATCH.COM.


I hate arrogance. Especially from men. I think it's comical to hear a man criticize a woman's physical characteristics while I'm looking at his beer belly and hairy back and balding head. What is that? Women don't pick apart men. We see the whole picture. We don't need perfection. I would love to respond to a man's insults by telling him how UGLY he is and perhaps he should look in the mirror and re-evaluate his self-image. But I wouldn't do that. You know why? Because I'm a woman and we don't do things like that. 
Arrogance. Yuck. GAG ME. Get a life. And some manners. Then put an ice pack on your SWOLLEN HEAD.


I went on a date with a guy who seemed pretty cool. He took me to dinner at the fanciest restaurant I'd ever been to. I opened the menu. WOW. The prices were RIDICULOUS. A salad cost $30. How can lettuce, tomatoes, and maybe a cucumber, (doubtful) cost that much money?
"Order anything you want." He said.
We talked about relationships, family, jobs, common interests- the usual shit one talks about on a first date. The conversation was easy and casual. I liked him. He was funny and real, attentive, warm, and sexy. Two hours later, we were flirting openly, really hitting it off. I was feeling elated. At the end of dinner, he reached across the table and grabbed my hand. I was shocked, but not in a bad way. I thought it was brave and assertive. I liked that. He had big, warm hands. I liked that, too.
"You're holding my hand." I said.
What a dumb thing to say.
"Yes, I am. Is that okay?" He asked.
"Oh, yes." I replied. "You have great hands."
"I do?" 
"Yes!" We both laughed.
We left the restaurant after he paid the bill- $120. HOLY FUCK. 
He walked me to my car. I said, "Thank you for dinner. I had a really good time."
"Me too." He said.
Then, before I could blink, he grabbed me by the shoulders and SHOVED HIS TONGUE DOWN MY THROAT.
"Oh my God- was this supposed to be a kiss? Or was he trying to choke me to death?" I thought to myself.
I pulled back. He came in for more. For some reason, I tried to go with it. I think I liked him so much, I was trying to avoid being grossed out. I kept pulling back, trying to teach him how to kiss. I failed. I pulled back for the last time. I was all done with this guy. YUCK. Instant TURN-OFF.
"Mmmm.. that was yummy." He said.
"That was disgusting." I said.
No, I didn't really say that. (But I wanted to.) Instead I said, "It's late, I'd better go. Thank you again."
He grabbed my arm. "You're my dream girl, Amy. We're going to make a great couple."
I opened my car door and practically dove in. 
"I'll call you later!" He yelled out after me.

I'd like to make one more comment in this blog:




The truth is, I still liked this guy, even though he tried to choke me with his tongue. I talked about it with my best friend for a while, and we both decided I shouldn't judge him by the first kiss.
I told him I'd go out with him again.
He asked me to drive to a marina, where his brand new 32' Sea Ray was docked. I told him I preferred a 33' boat, but I'd settle for a 32'. (joke) He also told me he had a Dodge Viper and a Lexus. (Red flag- potential BRAGGER- YUCK.) It wasn't necessary for him to tell me that. I wouldn't care if he had a Toyota Corolla or a Nissan Sentra. I'd rather someone have a good heart and make me laugh than take me on a drive in a "Viper." (I don't even know what the hell a "Viper" is.)
He said he would text me the address, and it should only take me an hour to get there. (Only an hour?) I got all dolled up and even had a manicure and a pedicure. I packed a big lunch for us to eat on the boat and headed out. When I looked at the text, he had only given me a street address. I put it in my GPS. A town came up, so I started my drive, assuming the directions were right. 
About 45 minutes later, I called him to find out the name of the marina. I'm not sure why he hadn't texted me with it. I said I thought I was about 15 minutes away. He didn't know the name of the marina, because he had just bought the boat. What??????? 
I was turned off again. I asked him to please find out the name. He said, "Well, there aren't too many people around." 
What the hell kind of an answer was that? 
I said, "I'll pull over and wait for you to call me back, but please hurry."
He said, "It might take me a while." 
So I said, "Do you have a computer on the boat?" 
"Okay, well, ummm... maybe since I'm on a HIGHWAY, and it's dangerous for me to pull over, you could go on-line and find out for me?"
He got defensive and said, "Most people would've checked on-line before they left."
The flames were shooting out of my ears.
I told him that was something maybe he should have done, since he had asked me on the date. Then I said, "Are you going on your computer?" 

What was wrong with this guy?

"Yeah, I'll call you back."
I pulled over anyway, and put my hazards on. This was insane! He called me back a minute later with the name of the marina. I typed it in my GPS. As it turned out, I had been driving in the WRONG DIRECTION. It would take me another 45 minutes to get there. I was PISSED. I couldn't believe how inconsiderate he was. I got back on the road, but the next exit was 10 miles away. When I got off, it was confusing. All of a sudden I was driving over a bridge. Then another one. Then a TOLL BOOTH! I called him back. Instead of apologizing, he was annoyed with me and said, again, "I wish you had gone on-line before you left."
(No I didn't.) But I should have.
I pulled over again and saw two men in a parking lot. I just wanted to go home. I asked them where I was. They laughed and said I was an hour and fifteen minutes away. I started to cry. I was really disappointed and confused and angry.  This was not the type of guy I wanted to get involved with.
He called me twenty minutes later and said, "So, are you coming or not?"
This guy was a FUCKING DOUCHEBAG! I laughed and said, "Are you joking? No, SERIOUSLY, are you joking?"
He took a moment, then said, "Does this mean we're over?"

I attract the biggest losers.
I hate men. 


I can't believe we celebrate Columbus Day. Sure, it's great to have the day off from work, but why can't we celebrate someone else instead? Christopher Columbus was a slave driver, a rapist, a thief, and and an all-over piece of shit.  Why don't we celebrate the person who invented chocolate? Or icecream? We could have a National Chocolate Icecream holiday! Now that's something to celebrate!!!!

Note: You wouldn't have to eat chocolate icecream. It could be vanilla, strawberry, Rocky Road, chocolate chip, Fudge Swirl, Cherry Garcia...  


Who does that? 8th graders? People with road rage? How old are you? Giving someone the middle finger is totally LAME. 
If someone is truly deserving of this gesture, I can think of better ways to make my point clear. Like, for example, I would just tell them they're an asshole. It's more gratifying and makes a stronger impact.


I hate toxic people. Toxic people poison the earth with their misery and incessant complaining. Spores of negative energy spew out of their mouths every time they open it. These people are so unhappy with themselves, (and life in general) that they can't stand to see other people happy. It becomes their MISSION to make everyone in the world as miserable as they are. They spend countless hours gossiping and thinking of ways to cause harm to those who enjoy life. They blame everyone else for their problems, even if it has nothing to do with the other person. Sometimes the stories are comical and entertaining. I should write a sitcom about the experiences I've had with toxic people. The name of the sitcom will be THE TOXIC TASK FORCE. It will be a about a group of people who meet several times a month to make up stories about their neighbors so they have something to gossip about. They'll have nicknames like "Agent Acid" and "Sargent Cyanide."  The meetings will take place in the Sargent's old tree house. First, the members will vote for the best candidate to gossip about. 
Criteria include: Emotionally unstable, sensitive, kind-hearted, prone to depression, and occasionally volatile. Next, they pick a topic of discussion, and finally, each member will have an opportunity to "sell" their fabricated story to the rest of the group. The most hurtful and damaging story wins. 

There would also be another element to the sitcom. A vigilante character. (Of course, that would be me!) I would find ways to piss them off- like putting a dozen Pink Flamingos all over their lawn with picket signs that say, "NO MORE TOXINS! NO MORE TOXINS!" Then, I'd gather a pile of dog shit and pretend it's Flamingo shit and place it under each Flamingo's ass. Then I'd light each pile of shit on fire and hide in the bushes with a live feed to Facebook as the Toxic People come running onto the lawn with garden hoses and try to put out the fires. The odor from the burning shit would make them start puking all over each other. They'd be slipping and falling in the shit and puke and the neighbors would come outside to see what was happening and everyone would be taking pictures and video with their cell phones and posting them on Facebook and Youtube. The videos would go viral with the title: FLAMING FLAMINGO SHITHEADS. 



On a few occasions in my life, I've made the grave mistake of texting someone in anger without thinking first. Big mistake. Even if the person thoroughly deserved it. The texts can be used against you and make you look like a horrible person. Especially when it says something to the effect of, "fuck off." (Among other things.) LOL 

My biggest regret regarding this "inappropriate text situation" is not the content of the text, nor the inclination behind the words. It's that I didn't say it to the individual's face. That would've been much more effective and meaningful.


I got stuck in a major traffic jam and decided to stop at one of those "REST-STOP PLAZAS." I went inside and found a juice bar. I looked at the menu. They had a Coconut Malibu Mango Delight. It sounded delicious. There were two young female employees standing near the counter with their backs to me. I saw one of them look at me but I guess she was too immersed in her conversation about her cheating boyfriend because she didn't acknowledge me. I stood there for at least a minute, trying to be patient. Then I thought maybe they weren't open yet because it was only 10:45am. 

ME: "Umm.. excuse me. Are you guys open yet?"
One of the girls turned around.
GIRL: "What?"
ME: "I'd love a Coconut Malibu Mango Delight, if you're open?"
GIRL: (With a major attitude.) "Yeah, of course we're open- read the sign. It says 9am-7pm."
ME: "Excuse me?"
The girl turned her back on me and started to walk over to the other end of the counter.
GIRL: "You have to come over here to order." 
I stood still for a moment, feeling the rage growing inside of me. I was already frustrated from the traffic jam. I went from 0-100 on the PISSED OFF SCALE in like, a second
ME: "Did you really just say that? Seriously?" 
GIRL: "I said, you have to come over here to order."
ME: "I heard you. Why do you have an attitude with me?"
GIRL: "What attitude? I don't have an attitude."
She was giving me one of those bitchy little 8th grade stares. Now there were people in line behind me.
ME: "Really? Let me show you what you did."
Then I proceeded to imitate the little whore from when she first opened her mouth to the moment she said she didn't have an attitude. Some of the customers smirked. One of them said, "That was perfect!"
The girl's face turned red. She was angry. But I was angrier.
GIRL: "That is NOT what I did!"
ME: "That is EXACTLY what you did you little slut!" (I didn't say "slut," but I wanted to.)  "I'm sick of dealing with lazy, disrespectful, rude MILENNIALS. Why do you even have a job? You're all miserable! Do you know how to smile? Have you ever heard of 'work ethic?' You talk on your phone instead of greeting customers. You have conversations with your co-workers while customers are STANDING IN LINE! I don't give two SHITS about your cheating boyfriend! I just want a Coconut Malibu Mango Delight dammit!"
I wanted to jump over the counter and PUNCH HER IN THE FACE. 
GIRL: "You can't talk to me like that! I quit!"
She turned around and walked into the back room. Immediately, a manager came running out.
MANAGER: "I'm sorry ma'am. She's a new employee."
ME: "Wow. Her interview must have gone well."
Another employee came out.
OTHER EMPLOYEE: "Kristin spit in the blender and then left."
The manager looked horrified.
MANAGER: "Jennifer. I'll handle this. Why don't you re-stock the juices for me." 
She turned to me.
MANAGER: "So what can I get for you today?"

I almost said, "A SPIT SMOOTHIE." But I refrained. Instead, I left. (So did the rest of the customers who were in line.)



Is it just me or do other people get annoyed when someone wants to show you a million pictures on their cell phone? These people never "ask." They just assume you have all the time in the world to stand there while they scroll through thousands of pictures on their phone, trying to find that "one" picture they want to show you. (Yeah, right- it's never just "one" picture.) Along the way they find other pictures they think you want to look at. 
Seriously people. I mean, SERIOUSLY?
Okay, here's the deal. First of all, I can tolerate standing there for a moment, (or even two) as long as you ALREADY HAVE THE PICTURE READY. Second, I don't mind looking at one (or even two) of your pictures, but don't scroll down and stop at every picture you think is "great" or that I "have to see" because most likely I won't be interested in looking at your cousin's bar mitzvah or your uncle's retirement party. What if the situation were reversed? Would you be interested in looking at pictures of my nephew's kindergarten graduation? (Well, actually, my nephews are awesome, so everyone would want to look at those pictures.) That was a bad example. I think most of you get my point. 

There should be a "cell phone etiquette book" with some rules about showing pictures on your cell phone. Do I sound mean and insensitive in this post? Maybe. After all, some people get really excited to show pictures of their kids, animals, events, etc. But I'm pretty confident that the next time you're stuck waiting for someone to scroll through a thousand pictures in order to show you that "one" (or TEN) pictures you have no interest in whatsoever, you might think about this blogpost. In fact, I guarantee you will.