i hope you're very happy together

Today's post is brought to you by Amanda Mae, my friend and author of A Good Man Is Hard To Find (the blog, not the book).

There’s a mess of assholes out there in the world, waiting for you to happen upon them. Abigail asked me to write, and when I asked what the topic was, she merely said “assholes.” Now, that is something I feel keenly when I encounter them, much like the open wound laden with salt and a twist of lemon. A razorblade cut splashed with vinegar, so goes the daily experiences of my life, where an asshole waits behind every corner to traumatize and annoy me. And you, just you wait.

Assholes who take their babies and little ones to movies.

I’m not a prude, but the asshole in front of me at Public Enemies who took his 4 and 6-year-old kids to see the film deserves to die. He clearly was supposed to be watching the kids for the day and decided that he wanted to go see a movie that HE wanted to see. His little girl sweetly asked before the film began if they could “go to the liberry” after, and it broke my fucking heart. I wanted to lean over and creepily breathe into his ear that he and his asshole behavior was going to ruin his child’s life. Instead I seethed silently with rage throughout every bloody gunfight as she covered her face and cried. Instead of taking her out of the theatre, he just leaned over and told her to stop it.


Assholes who have shitty weddings.

My god, my hatred for these people knows no bounds. From the very start, the tacky invitation arrives with it’s pleasant spray of roses and mother of pearl embossed lettering and formulaic wording. I take special delight in tearing these open, snarling at everyone within earshot. Then I poo-poo the registry choices, and eagerly peruse their online listings, asking what kind of asshole registers for a huge plasma screen television and brand new iPhones. Then I get to go to this shitty wedding where I don’t know most people, but see fifty people that I hate, another twenty I don’t care about, I scathingly comment on the music choices to whoever my lucky companion is, as I guffaw loudly at the ugly bridesmaid dresses. Ugh the ceremony is too looooong, ugh, I hate this song. Then comes the reception, where I am sulkily fed some terrible food and watch the bride continually assert how this is HER DAY, and then I leave early because I’m bored and tired out from being mean. And I laugh because I didn’t get a present, and promise mentally to do it sometime in the future, and never do. And I wonder why I never get to go to any weddings.

Assholes who have lots of opinions.

Yeah, I get it, it’s my fault for opening my mouth and expecting you just to listen. And I’m so guilty of this, I often equate someone talking to me with them wanting me to respond and come up with some solutions. Anyone who wants to chime in before I’m even done talking infuriates and annoys. Everyone knows someone like this, someone who can’t even share all their opinions, there’s just too many. When they’re not trying to jam in their own lame life experiences for you to NOT RELATE TO, they’re busy word vomiting all over you.


Assholes who hate vegetarians and loudly chomp meat in front of them or corner them and ask them aggressive and mean questions about why they don’t want any STEAK, what kind of pussy doesn’t like meat?

See above.

Assholes who break your heart.

And then there’s the kind of assholes who break you so hard you don’t think you’ll ever get unbroken. The kind who call you on the phone and talk for four hours every night, as you slip slowly into an understanding. The kind who make you so scared to ever get married or have kids, because maybe you’ll mess that up too because clearly you can’t make relationships work, no matter what you do or how much you cave and give in and love and try. The kind who change almost overnight and act like you’re crazy for ever having fallen in love with them in the first place when you were CLEARLY just friends. (Because guy and girls who are JUST friends write each other long thoughtful emails every day, and giggle on the phone for hours and adhere to the “your wins are my wins” vow of life and think about each other every minute of every day.) These assholes are all too willing to take what you’ve got, and you’ve got to get better at not letting them. Maybe it takes you a decade, but maybe you figure it out. And then it’s You: 1, Assholes: 210488329, but at least you’re getting closer to evening the score.