Why Nice People Can’t Hang Out With Me

I was going to title this “Why We Can’t Have Anything Nice”, but I’m going to save that one because that’s really a whole separate tangent. I’m going to change some names/facts to protect the innocent in this post, aka try and make sure these people might hang out with me again in spite of myself… Also unrelated, but you know how everyone has those words that they just can’t spell correctly for the life of them? (Unless you’re one of those copy editor types), “separate” is one of those for me. It is a deep seeded belief of mine that it should be spelled “seperate”.

Anyways, a few years ago A. and I were hanging out with a group of friends and one of our friends had a new significant other. Everyone else hanging out had known us for years and had a pretty solid comfort level with each other. So we were acting naturally. AKA not necessarily in a manner that’s fit for public or new people.

For us this consists of having very inappropriate senses of humor or conversation tangents. There’s a lot of Cards Against Humanity games and conversations without the game that follow similar topics which for some people would be maybe a cause for concern. Such as we were recently reminiscing about 90s things which led to how the whole “dead baby” joke fad died out after that and isn’t that a shame. If you were a teen or around teenager age in the 90s you totally know what I’m talking about, otherwise I’ve just proven the point to you that nice people can’t hangout with me. Win-win either way as I see it.

So we’re all hanging out and having a group discussion about something as inappropriate as dead baby jokes (I can’t remember what it was exactly) and I see our friend and their significant other exchange a look. The significant other’s look is “what the hell is wrong with your friends!?” and our friend (who was an active participant in the conversation) shrugged and gave a look of “I’m sorry I hang out with such horrible people.” There was a solid month that we didn’t see them again, until apparently the memory of our awfulness faded enough to warrant seeing us again and I started making an effort of being more civilized.

Which brings me to present day. So I got my first tattoo a week ago. it’s in a somewhat prominent location on the underside of my arm/wrist and so I’ve had people ask what it’s for. Something that occurred to me as I was getting this tattoo was that when someone waits until their 30s to get a tattoo and it’s not someone’s name or initials, it’s probably pretty complicated and that question may be a bit personal. And it is with mine. Mine is related to the whole cancer thing and has a few different meanings for me, none of them are light conversation. So since it’s a snowflake, if I don’t want to get into it (which is most of the time) I tell people it’s because Frozen has made such a major impact in my life and Olaf is my ride or die. It’s fun for me. My other response if I don’t feel like talking about it is, some day when we have a few drinks (which is totally true, it’s way easier to talk about bad things as a bar with alcohol).

Which led me to my twitter activity this week. And made me think again, since my tweets are public, about how nice people can’t hang out with me.

not nnice

Now please note that the random person engaging with me is not someone I know or have ever interacted with before. They also sell e-cigs, aka a new form of cancer stick.


Surprisingly they stopped responding after this.



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