While I don’t write as often as I would like to – it seems to be that I dig up my every once in a while after finding something that truly sits in my craw. This time? This time I blame the Instagram “20 Beautiful Women Challenge” for my rant.
I coach 13-year-olds how to play volleyball; and when I look back on my athletic career and learning how to play, there are plenty of things that I can point out as to what has made me the person I am today. Work ethic, determination, and the desire to succeed – just to name a few. But there’s one thing that I completely forgot about since I have grown into an adult:
Teenage girls are weird.
Throughout the years, I have been described as many things by my friends and family: blunt, outgoing, and impulsive – just to name a few. Many things have shaped the way in which I act and choose to live my life. Yet, I never thought I would see the day (or days, if you will) that people would pick one choice word to describe myself and my actions… What’s that word, you ask?
At some point in life, everyone holds a menial job that makes you question whether or not there are actually nice people in the world. Some people call it a summer job while others call it a career, but me? I just call it retail.
I’m assuming most of you are aware of the ever-popular vegan joke, explaining that you’ll know a vegan when you meet one – because they won’t shut up about it. Well, I have found a social situation vaguely similar to the dietary habits of the animal-loving crazies…
People who, as a collective group, think they’re nice.
As a new kid in a new city, I have grown extremely comfortable when it comes to doing things on my own. This even includes going to the bar. Be it for a trivia night, sports game, or because I really need a drink, I have no issues sitting myself at the bar and making conversation with the bartender and the occasional strangers who choose to sit near me. My favorite, however, is the conversations that come from guys with poor social skills.
Whether these guys intentionally meant to be offensive is something that I’m not sure of… but in doing so, they unintentionally landed themselves on my blog. These following lines are completely real and have been said to me in the prior span of three weeks.
I present to you the top five lines I have heard while at a bar on my own:
Ah, the ever glamorous cheesesteak. While I personally prefer the buffalo chicken option (of basically everything), I finally caved and decided to try the wonderful combo of cheese, steak, onions, and grease on a roll outside of its natural habitat.
And I will never do it again.
Being an avid sports fan, I find it hard to edit myself from talking too much about things like baseball, football, or hockey – especially when I have taken it upon myself to write entries in a blog. Yet seeing how we’re entering into week three of the NFL season, I find it somewhat practical to take a moment to not only judge these teams, but the people who choose to follow their horrid existence. And before you ask “why aren’t the Jets in here?”, it’s simple – they haven’t been bad enough for long enough. Yet.
*And since I’ve been scolded by an easily offended Chiefs fan, the Super Bowls counted are post-AFL/NFL merger in 1970. No, the 1969 bowl doesn’t count.