I’m all about multi-tasking and killing all the birds with one stone.

However, there’s a difference between double-booking yourself for everyone’s Christmas party and knocking two other things out at the same time like arranging to meet your drug dealer on a date.

I don’t know, maybe I just have really high standards.

Get it



My friend Sabrina told me about the worst date she ever had, with a guy named Brian who she met at a networking event.

They went on three dates and had fun listening to music and going to dinner, getting coffee, etc.

She remembers now that he was always hyper, always up for doing stuff, especially late at night. She chalked it up to enthusiasm and spirit and, unfortunately, failed to notice how often he was going to “bathroom.”


(Mom, don’t ask.)

On their fourth date, Brian suggested they go to a random bar that was way, way off the beaten path that they had no particular reason for going.

There was no food, no music, no fun bar games. It was a seedy, dark hole in the wall.

“The beers are really cold,” Brian told her.


They walked in and took seats and the bar and each ordered a beer when Brian said he was going to go to the bathroom.


After five minutes of sitting there by herself, Sabrina looked around to try and find Brian or the bathrooms and saw just a group of people sitting at a booth in the back.

She looked again. There was Brian.


Then she looked closer: Brian was sitting with four girls.

THE F—-?!!!!!!!!?????!??!

Sabrina didn’t want to walk up to Brian and the group of girls (who were very pretty and intimidating) so she did what any millennial would do—she texted him.

“Ummm hello what are you doing? Who are those people?”


Brian didn’t seem at all concerned, so Sabrina had to muster up the courage to go over to a booth and bitch at Brian in front of everyone.

“What are you doing over here?” she asked in her most fake-happy voice.

Brian got jumpy.

“Oh, nothing. just talking to some friends. This is Sabrina everybody,” he said.

Before the girls looked up, Sabrina announced, “I’m leaving,” and walked toward the door.

“Wait!” Brian yelled behind her.

Sabrina turned around.

“What are you doing sitting at a booth with all those girls?” she asked. “Are you dating one of them?”

“You don’t understand!” Brian said. “I’m not dating any of them! They are my cocaine dealers!”


Sabrina paused.

“Wait, you do coke?” she asked.


“Yea, and every girl I’ve ever dated has been a big coke head and you’re really inspiring me not to do it anymore, so this will be my last time buying it,” Brian said.


“So, come on, let’s go back into the bar and come sit with us.”


Sabrina said she didn’t know what was worse—him being a secret cocaine user, or the fact that he brought her unknowingly to his coke deal.

Or maybe it was worse that he didn’t think she would TURN HER HEAD AROUND and see him sitting there in the back of the bar after five minutes of being the “bathroom.”


There aren’t enough stones in the world to kill that bird.

So Sabrina flew out of there as quickly as possible.



I assume Uber drivers have it good because there are so many of them who willingly do it, but I can’t imagine the conversations they have to endure with me, I mean passengers, at 3 a.m.


For example.

I talk to every one of my Uber drivers, at the very least to ask how their day or night is going.

Sometimes I ask them about their most ridiculous passengers (always welcomed stories.)

So far, what I’ve gathered is that every day, Uber drivers bring people back to their cars from the night before.

(Raises hand.)

They also pull over on the side of the road more often than you’d think so a passenger can throw up.

(Earmuffs, mom)

They are constantly asked to suggest restaurants and bars, like a tour guide.

At least one passenger will ALWAYS leave a phone in the back seat and then drivers have to coordinate returning it.

BTW, they’d like a cash tip after returning a phone.

But last week, I heard a new Uber driver’s experience, one that I found to be so horrifying yet so hilarious that I had to have him go into every detail.

Peter, an Uber driver who had a 4.8 star rating, picked up a young guy in his 20s one day during the day and drove to the address he had requested.

The address was a house, not a bar or a business, and Peter said the guy was pretty quiet, not really saying anything about the house other than confirming the address.

But then, about a block away, he told the Uber driver to keep driving by the house and not to stop.

“He ducked down in the backseat and everything!” Peter said.

The driver did as he was told, and kept driving.

“Can you go back around the block again?” the guy asked.


“Did I miss it?” the driver asked.


No. Apparently, Peter was an accomplice to some light stalking.

Which is NOT something that happens to drivers every day.

Peter made the block and stopped at the address, just like his phone told him to.

“The second time I drove down a young girl was coming out of the house and the guy in the backseat screamed, “DRIVE!”” Peter laughed.

Peter panicked and hit the gas, and said the woman ran out to the street, and he saw her yelling at him (and his passenger) in the rear view mirror.

“What’s going on man?” Peter asked him. “I don’t want no rocks being thrown at my car, now!”

He said he was worried she would take down his license plate and report him for something.


He stopped the car at the next stop sign. His phone chirped, “Make a U-Turn.”

“DRIVE STRAIGHT!” the guy yelled. “SHIT SHIT SHIT!”

Peter said the guy was “cussing” up a storm.

“Where are we going now?” Peter asked, trying to program a new address into the app.

The guy told Peter to go back to where he picked him up. He admitted that it was his ex-girlfriend’s house, and he just wanted to drive by to see if her “new ASSHOLE” was there.


Is this what people are using Ubers for these days????!?!?!?

To have an anonymous cars creep by their ex’s house?

What would have happened if said “asshole” was on the porch????!!?

Honestly, a passenger puking sounds better.

I mean, how many times did this guy do that???

Peter could not have been his first drive-by.

I can see him arguing with his ex now: “No, Lisa, I was NOT driving by your house. I don’t even have a Buick.”


“Well, did you give him five stars?” I asked.

“Yea, well, you know, I give them all five stars,” Peter said.

Then he paused.

“Unless they puke.”



For some reason guys’ iPhone batteries don’t die after 30 minutes of scrolling through Facebook like every female I know.

Which is why it’s a good idea to have your roommate’s boyfriend’s cell number.

Because you need to tell her something, and her phone is dead.

Or because her boyfriend is looking for her, and her phone is dead.

Literally anything, and her phone is dead.

In my 18 years (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) of living with roommates, I’ve had a number of roommates’ boyfriend’s phone numbers and have participated in very important conversations like, “Is Angela with you? Her phone is dead.”

Or, “Hey this is Angela from Brad’s phone, are you home? I forgot my keys. Also my phone is dead.”

Thankfully, I’ve never had a problem with someone’s boyfriend abusing the privilege of this mode of communication.

But Jessica didn’t get so lucky.

Jessica lives with my friend Tara. When she moved in, she exchanged numbers with Tara’s boyfriend, David.

She said that despite exchanging numbers, she and David had no cell phone contact at all.

That is, until David and Tara broke up.

A few days later, Jessica was minding her own business when she got a text from David.

Was this to ask if his hoodie was at the apartment?

Was it to see if he could take back his vat of cookie dough from the refrigerator?


“Hey, I know Tara has been telling you a lot of stuff about me, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m actually a really good guy,” David wrote.


OK, David.

Jessica ignored it. David pressed on.

“What is she saying about me???” he texted.


David was super desperate, and barking up the wrong tree.

“I’m sorry you guys didn’t work out,” Jessica wrote.

It was a nice message, but once she made contact, David got more clingy.

“Did you know that I bought her a month at a gym??”

(Ed note: Jealous!!)


“I’m a very generous guy. I just hate that Tara is going around saying stuff about me.”


Rule of thumb: Don’t to reach out to your ex’s roommate after you break up.


Especially in this case, Jessica didn’t care about David, she barely knew him and had indeed been hearing shitty things about him from Tara.



Jessica looked at the message and rolled her eyes.

Thankfully, her phone died a short time later.


TOOLBAG TUESDAY – Halloween creeps

This Halloween, I found an even scarier person than a creepy effing clown!!!!

It’s someone’s husband, wearing his “I’m single” outfit.


My friend Hillary came to visit me in New Orleans this weekend and we went to a place where dancing was required.

It was a dance party at a cheesy bar on Bourbon Street, and it was loud and obnoxious but oh so fun when the Saints football team just won.


There we were, front and center dancing together, when a guy came up to Hillary and started dancing behind her, grinding on her butt.

He wasn’t at all cute, and looked at least a decade older than us.

“Oh, sorry, I have a boyfriend,” Hillary lied to him.

“Well, is he here?” the man said, not listening to the hint to stop grinding.

“No, but his friends are,” Hillary lied again, and stepped away from him.

This gross man not only didn’t care about the words she was saying, but he put his hands on her stomach and PULLED HER INTO HIS GRINDING LOWER HALF.

“STOP!” Hillary said shaking away from him. “I already told you I have a boyfriend.”

“So?” he said. “I have a WIFE.”

Then he put his finger over his mouth like A SHHHH

His wedding ring flickered in the strobe light.

(Really dude????? SHHH?)

“Well, I don’t want to dance with a man who has a wife, that’s really disrespectful to her and to me,” Hillary said.

“Well, she’s not here so who cares?” the man said, still moving to the beat. “Hey, can I buy you a shot?”

That’s when Hillary and I walked away from the horny, married man.

We then walked out of the bar into the costumed streets of New Orleans and I realized at that moment that zombies and psychos with chainsaws are a hell of a lot less creepy than that asshole.

…who, unfortunately, is in costume year round.

No ifs, ands or SHHHHHs about it.




It really is impressive/disgusting how light years ahead guys are in their cheating today—using technology even the most savvy millennial wouldn’t think of.

See, if you are a smart-shitty person, you can’t just cheat through your iPhone anymore.

There are too many time stamps, date stamps, clouds, backups, recoveries, screen shots (of butt shots), GPS capabilities, location backgrounds etc etc etc so you can’t get away with very much.

…And it’s also almost as if Facebook messenger WANTS your girlfriend to see your sexy messages to some other chick. It’s like a magnet.

(Thanks Mark Z.!!)

As such, guys have to go through other *creative* outlets to cheat on the down low.

I thought my friend’s ex who managed to send her a message through an old “Words With Friends” game was pretty creative.

To his current girlfriend: “Geez, babe, I’m just playing Scrabble, you are so paranoid!”

W-A-N-T- T-O H-A-V-E S-E-X L-A-T-E-R


But here’s a new one: Leon, this guy who lives with his girlfriend, makes Tumbler blog posts in order to flirt with his ex.

“What is A Tumblr?” – my mom

Good question!

Tumblr is Attention Deficit Disorder Anonymous a place where millions of people have personal blogs where they post very short text, pictures, quotes, links, videos and GIFs.

It’s like Facebook, only without the pesky business of needing to fill in your name or have any friends or accountability.

NORMALLY on Tumblr, you just search for things you’re into, such as the word “fall” or “cats” and you’ll see pictures of apples and assholes (respectively).


But Leon, instead of posting photos of fall, or cats, he posts flirty text messages to a private page that only his ex can see when she logs on to Tumblr.

It’s actually pretty genius; there’s no trail to his phone, it can be deleted immediately and if his actual girlfriend ever decided to look at his website history, all she’ll see under his activity is “Tumblr.”

“Babe, of course I was on Tumblr, you KNOW I like pictures of cats taking a bath!!”



I really do hope one day this backfires for Leon.

I hope Russian spies use his blog to send their own secret messages and he’s arrested for being complicit.

I hope he gets a virus (like feline distemper).

No, wait, I know….I’ll give him my friend’s Words With Friends login and password.




Sometimes regular life events provide great timing to test a new relationship.

This is certainly the case with any event that requires a gift.

For example, say you met a guy and started dating one month before your birthday.

…Does he get you a gift?

See, it’s a natural way to weed out the cheaps.

The same can be said for Christmas and the very obvious Valentine’s Day, but this week, I learned about another life event test, an unusual one that involves not just a day but an entire season: College football.

This may not come as a surprise to many people.

(Even I have written a Toolbag Tuesday about a guy who took college football WAY too seriously, but I thought that was an isolated incident.)

Not isolated!

In fact, I recommend everyone start dating someone new in early September during this important testing season.


My friend Katie started dating Grant in late August after they met at a concert in Charleston.

They went out on dates, they talked and texted almost daily and she had really high hopes for him.

But then college football started.

Grant was a Clemson fan and he invited her to watch the Clemson game at his favorite Clemson bar, which was 45 minutes from Katie’s house.


But her team (LSU) was playing later that evening and she agreed to meet him there and spend the day watching college football.

When she finally arrived (45 MINUTE DRIVE), Grant was already drunk.

It was a very close game and he was stressed out, as if he was personally on the field himself.

He told her hello and that she looked nice, but other than that, he was silent at the high top bar table.

“I don’t talk to a lot of people when a Clemson game is on,” he announced.

Katie was annoyed that she drove a long way just to hang out with a MUTE (who, frankly, pulls for the wrong team hahaha) but she told herself that Grant was just passionate and maybe if they order nachos at halftime, he’ll be nicer.

But as halftime approached, Clemson was losing by one point.



“F—- B—- S— GOD DAMMIT!” Grant was screaming.

“Woah, hey, it’s just one point,” Katie reassured him. “LSU has been way down more than that at halftime and they pulled it out, it’s OK.”

She said Grant’s eyes flashed at her and he didn’t say anything else to her after that.

“Like, he actually stopped speaking to me,” she said.

Katie got up and went to the bathroom, questioning her choices in men, and when she got back to the bar, Grant was closing his tab.

(NOT ordering nachos.)

“Wait, are you leaving?” she asked. “I just got here.”

She said Grant CONTINUED TO IGNORE HER as he signed his bar tab.

Katie was shocked.

“I’ve never had someone just ignore me like that in my entire life,” she recalls.

“Are you serious right now??” she asked him. “It’s just one point!”

Plus it was halftime.

At that moment, Katie was tapped on the shoulder by a girl she knew, and they chatted for a minute. When she turned her attention back to Grant, he was staring at his phone.

“My Uber’s here,” Grant said. And left the bar.



Over ONE point.


Katie was furious, but stayed at the bar with her friend and watched LSU play a terrible game in which they LOST, but she still had a good time anyway because she’s a normal person.

Four hours later, Grant texted her.

“Do you, like, hate me now?” he asked.


Katie called him on her way home and Grant explained that he was so drunk, he didn’t realize it was halftime and he thought the game was over and that Clemson had lost by one point.


He went home and passed out and when he woke up four hours later, he had missed the second half. Clemson ended up winning.




“So, yea, sorry about that, I thought the game was over,” he said.


Does this mean he thinks that behavior would be OK if it was the actual final score???

Does he think it’s cool to pass out before 2 p.m. on a Saturday after making plans with a new girlfriend to spend the day together?

…And then ignore her in public for no reason?

…And then leave her at a bar by herself?



Thank you, college football season for being a natural test for WHO NOT TO DATE.

Like Clemson fans, for example.


It’s gonna be a long season.


Toolbag Tuesday – Unlike you, car insurance doesn’t lie

There’s an age-old struggle (just kidding…it’s a millennial struggle) in dating, where you balance how much time you spend at each other’s apartment.

In my experience, guys tend to stay over at their girlfriends’ house and never leave because we have nice-smelling soap and pillows and stuff.

But there’s a difference between staying over all the time and uhh MOVING IN without tell your girlfriend.



The most extreme example was this guy Stuart who LIED about moving in with my friend Angela, and who only got busted when he started getting mail addressed to him there.


I mean, isn’t in the rule book of life that you discuss moving in with someone???

“I’m not moving in,” he insisted. “I just have to wait a week-and-a-half until I can move into my new apartment.”

Angela said ok, a week-and-a-half. He stayed over that often anyway.

But then (duh) a week-and-a-half turned into three weeks.

Then five weeks.

Angela was running out of soap.

She kept asking him what the deal was and again he insisted that he had a place rented and there was issues with fleas (LOL) or termites or something else out of his control.

But then the mail started coming.

His name at her address.

Bills, freelance checks.

And then his car insurance bill!

She looked at the document. He had registered his car at her address!!

You don’t register your car somewhere for a week and a half stay. That’s like registering your car at at an AirBnB.

“What is going on?” Angela asked.

That’s when Stuart (duh) admitted that he didn’t have another apartment lined up at all, he just got kicked out of his old place.


…and he figured she and he, “were probably going to move in together anyway” LOL so he moved in without saying anything.


Killer plan, Stuart.

A real turn on.

Angela gave him a week-and-a-half to move out.

After that, she was calling Geico.




I forget what exactly the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz was afraid of, but if he lived in this era, I imagine he’d be afraid to break up with his girlfriend.

Because breaking up with someone takes courage.

Someone stitch that on a pillow!!

Unless there’s an epic catching-someone-cheating or a creepy reveal, it’s a dreadful, voice-shaking, knee-buckling horrible conversation.

Which is why it’s easy to coward out.

The most common one is to “ghost” and disappear, but that can only work if it’s a super casual dating situation, not someone you’ve been dating for a year.

So, second “best” is when a guy decides that instead of doing the uncomfortable work of breaking up with his girlfriend, he just decides to be an asshole ON PURPOSE to make a girl break up with him.


But I heard of a new tactic this past weekend, the MOST COWARDLY LION way of getting out of breaking up with someone.


He deliberately got fat.


I guess that’s better than being an asshole on purpose???

This past weekend, a guy friend told me about Brandon and his big FAT idea.

I don’t actually know Brandon. Perhaps he just has a penchant for carbs.

But the story I heard from Brandon’s friend is that Brandon decided to gain a whole bunch of weight so that his girlfriend wouldn’t be attracted to him anymore and break up with him.


How much weight? I asked.






Someone would rather gain sixty pounds than breakup with their girlfriend!!!!!!

THAT’S how terrible it is to break up with someone: the potential for diabetes.


Update: It worked!!!! Brandon is now single.

Way to go Brandon!


If he only had a brain…

Wait, that was the scarecrow.



TOOLBAG TUESDAY…the worst first date in 10 words

Last week, my friend Sarah posted a link to a Vice article on my Facebook wall entitled, “We Asked People to Sum Up Their Worst Dates in Six Words.”


She wrote: “Like Toolbag Tuesday, but abbreviated!”

Well…challenge accepted Sarah!!!!

I searched through ALL 323 TOOLBAG TUESDAY POSTS (omg) for the phrase “first date,” for research.

(YA’LL….there are 323 Toolbag Tuesday posts!!!)


Where does the time go??


And then I tried to sum up “first date” ones down to six words.

Ok…errr…ten words.


(Click on the name after the description to read the full post.)

Job pending, asked for my urine  –Mallory, 31

Asked advice for getting waitress’ number. –Joy, 23

Gave him a blow job, he rated it “8th best.” –Margie, 28

Casually mentioned his crackhead prostitute ex-girlfriend. –ME, 31, (FML)

Split the check, for feminism. –Katie, 30

Couldn’t pay the bill at all, because Wal Mart. -Holly, 29

When I went to the bathroom, he left the bar. -Martha, 33


LOL x 10



For real, who doesn’t fantasize about their ex seeing them in public looking awesome and fit and having fun with another date?

(It’s kind of why some people’s Instagram pages exist haha)

But this ACTUALLY happened to my friend, Mallory. She arrived at her favorite restaurant with a new, hot Tinder guy and she saw her ex, Brian, sitting at the bar.

Unfortunately, he was also on a date.

Ugh. They were even.

Mallory said she tried not to make eye contact as she waited at the host stand for their table. It was a small restaurant, so she knew they would eventually have to acknowledge one another.

UGH. Why did they have to be even????

This is why you don’t go to you and your ex’s favorite restaurant with a new date!!!

Why couldn’t he have been eating all sad and alone??

Just before Mallory could upset herself by thinking of how much fun Brian was having on his date, he saved her a lot of time.

“I’M HAVING THE BEST NIGHT!” Brian announced loudly to the bartender.


“THIS IS MY DATE, HOLLY. I told her how this is my FAVORITE restaurant! CHEERS EVERYONE!!”

Mallory pretended to read the menu with wide eyes.

Was Brian really announcing his fab new life to the bartender?


“I’M HAVING SUCH A GREAT MONTH, I TELL YOU, JULY IS WHERE IT’S AT!” he said, to no one in particular.

(He and Mallory broke up a month ago.)


Did he think she was stupid?

People who are legitimately happy don’t loudly announce said happiness to a stranger for the purposes of their ex overhearing.

He would have done better to keep quiet.

Mallory said his bragging got so blatant and weird, that HER Tinder date made a comment about it.

“What’s with that guy?”

“Actually, that’s my ex-boyfriend,” Mallory said. “He’s obviously trying to make me jealous with his awesome new date and life.”

That’s when Brian chimed in loudly: “AREN’T DATE NIGHTS JUST AWESOME?”

Mallory’s date laughed, and then she laughed and Mallory hoped Brian noticed.

THAT moment would have gotten all the likes on Facebook.