Any guy who has ever had a girlfriend (or has ever read an effing CATHY comic) knows it’s NOT OK to talk about how pretty other girls are because society sucks and it makes us feel bad about ourselves.

I mean…have there not been enough Tyler Perry movies going over this?

Besides…do you REALLY want to be on the receiving end of: “Oh, you think Keira Knightly is the hottest person in the world??  Basically someone who looks the complete opposite of me?? Well, then what are you doing dating ME for??!?!?!?


For example.

But it’s one thing to carelesslymention in passing that a particular actress or singer is attractive, or maybe even the copy store girl (R.I.P…..F.R.I.E.N.D.S).

…It’s quite another to go OUT OF YOUR WAY to tell someone that another girl is “hot” when nobody asked your opinion, ThankYouVeryMuch.

But to be fair, nobody ever accused Kurt of NOT being a sleaze. (sleeze??)

Kurt was a rich and successful banker, attractive enough, and had the asshole aura to prove it.

My friend Sara knew him as a colleague, when she did marketing for a firm that worked in finance. 

It was part of her job to schmooze with bankers and Sara had had met Kurt at a number of work and networking functions and they chatted many times.

Of all the sleazy bankers she dealt with, Kurt was the one who would routinely come up to her and make flirty talk while staring at her chest. 

While wearing a wedding ring.

Kurt enjoyed every second of the attention Sara gave him, even though his bank never used her firm’s services.

Ugh. That guy.

After four years, Sara moved jobs to one NOT in finance and enjoyed her new-found freedom of not having to schmooze with A-holes.

But then, she found herself face to face with the biggest one two weeks later on a weekend night at the end of a very long pub crawl.

Sara had been out with her friends and was at the bar trying to order a drink when Kurt came up to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Oh, hey!” Sara said. “Long time no see!”

It was a time for Kurt to ask her how her new job was going, make a joke about banking, ask what she was doing now, I don’t know… ANYTHING IN THE WORLD.

But he decided to lead off with this:

“I met your replacement,” he said smugly. 

“…She is SO. HOT.”

His wedding ring gleamed in the dimly-lit bar.

“Um…Ok,” Sara said. She didn’t know the firm had even hired a replacement.

“I mean….just….really. Hot,” Kurt said, again. Smugly. Again.

He searched Sara’s face for a reaction.

The sad truth was that Sara actually felt a sting of jealousy because society sucks and statements like that make women feel bad themselves.

But ALSO, when you hold a job somewhere for years and years, you don’t want to hear about your replacement being the hottest new thing on the block.

Like…“Yea, the minute she started, everyone forgot your name!!!”

So…doubly offensive.

Sara tried to steer the conversation to professionalism, not appearances.  

“Well, how did she do at that big convention in New York? Did she go?” Sara asked, remembering the biggest marketing event of the year.

“Yea she went…and everyone was just OBSESSED WITH HER because she is so GORGEOUS.”

“Like, all the bankersare just in LOVE with her. She’s going to do really well.”


Sara didn’t know how to respond because COLD POTATOES DON’T TALK.

But it didn’t matter anyway because Kurt then walked away. 

Walked away!!!

He didn’t say bye, he didn’t ask her how her new job was, he didn’t even ask her where she was working now.


Did he really just come over to specifically tell her about her super hot replacement??


The annoying part was that it worked. 

At that moment Sara wished she was taller, and thinner and looked down at her outfit, frowning.

It was so sad.

…all thanks to a sleazy DOUCHE….WHO WAS MARRIED.


What did Kurt possibly hope to get out of that conversation??

More smugness??

Was he expecting a, “Oh, KURT, I feel so self-conscious now…let’s have sex”  ???????


It’s not very often that I wish I could punch someone in the face, but I’ll make an exception for Kurt.

And now that I think about it, I wish I could call his wife and tell her to leave his stupid, sexist ass.

And then glue Cathy comics to his face.


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