Dealbreakers
I’ve been a little grumpy. When I’m feeling grumpy, it’s usually because I’ve been allowing myself to be vulnerable to people who haven’t earned that vulnerability. Healthy boundaries matter. It is with this idea in mind that I began brainstorming what those healthy boundaries are. What follows is my working criteria for who gets my love—and who I hope gets a lifetime of paper cuts, stubbed toes, and jury duty summons.
Ps and Qs
Hate crimes are acceptable for any person who treats service workers like servants. If you don’t make it a point to look a busboy in the eyes and say thank you when he refills your water or clears your plate of gnawed chicken bones, you’re probably a turd. And if you’re a turd, you have no business being in any restaurant. Go lie in the yard with the rest of the turds and be quick about it.
Red Flags
If you hoist flags—any flags—you’re probably a boring person, and it’s best to avoid conversations with you. The only acceptable flag is one that reads, All flags are dumb (including this one).
Boners for Bullies
If you saw a powerful man—say, the most powerful man on the planet—shush a woman doing her job and call her a piggy, and you thought, “She was asking for it,” then you are the piggy. May somebody shove a spit up your ass, roast you over an open flame, and gouge you for eggs and gasoline.
Untasty
If you watched The Big Lebowski, Being John Malkovich, or Boogie Nights and said “I don’t get it,” then there are hard limits to how seriously I can take you as a human being. Your taste, your capacity for joy, your appreciation for irony, your inability to understand that bruised and broken hearts are healed with humor—it’s all suspect. You should work on yourself. And quickly.
Wave Disabilities
There are two types of people. Both types might cut me off in traffic. They might nearly sideswipe me on the freeway. They might make us miss a green light because they’re distracted by something wholly insignificant. The decent of the two will offer an apologetic wave, a humble gesture that says, Please forgive me, I meant no harm. To this person, I wish nothing but winning lottery tickets. The other type who can’t be bothered to wave—may that person win the lottery and die of a heart attack from the surprise. There is no room for nuance here. You’re either a good person and you wave, or you’re a miserable bastard whose head is merely decorative.
Cellular Exhibitionists
I think all decent people can agree—the electric chair is for anyone who talks on speakerphone in public. Nobody wants to hear about your hemorrhoid diagnosis at full volume.
Savages
I was at a tap house in college. The bar had over 200 beers on draft. This guy bellied up to the bar and said, “Holy shit! Over 200 beers! Give me a… Coors Light!” Are. You. Fucking. Serious?! This is the same person who travels to Rome and seeks out a McDonald’s. We need to flush these people from the gene pool.
The Perpetually Offended
A preference for self-righteousness over laughter is an unforgivable sin. As far as virtues go, humor beats the shit out of piety. If you’d rather look down your nose than laugh, then go ahead and shove that dirty look up your sanctimonious ass.
Ye Apologists (Et al.)
I can separate the art from the artist. But in my heart, I believe people who justify listening to Kanye West because they think his music is good should suck a fat one. Kanye West does not make good music. You’ve confused Kanye West with Michael Jackson. So Beat it, mother fucker. Related—and I’ve covered this topic, but it bears repeating—Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” is a musical abortion, and there’s no excuse for playing it. Ever. Just listen to the fireworks in silence, for fuck’s sake. No need to desecrate the moment with cotton candy patriotism.
Sycophants, Toadies, and Boot Lickers
Give me the punk rockers, the hip-hoppers, the iconoclasts, and anyone who keeps the sacred cows in their crosshairs. If you like the taste of boot heels, if the sound of corporate and government titles arouse you, if you like the feeling of being told what and how to think, then move along… right along with the rest of the lemmings… straight off that cliff.
Concessions
These dealbreakers are specific to my experience in this life. I understand that many of my positions are likely dealbreakers for other people. Fair enough. The door swings both ways. To this point, “faithful” teenagers who go to school with my son regularly promise him that he’s going to hell because he doesn’t go to their church. His go-to reply: Hell is where they play all the good music. Hard to argue with that. It is, after all, a dealbreaker.
I’d love to hear what’s a dealbreaker for other people. As noted earlier, the above criteria are working. They can and will change. Sharing your dealbreakers may help me—and others—live a healthier life. So post ‘em if you got ‘em.
If you want me to send an All Kinds of Funny: Unsolicited love letter (of sorts) to one of your people, click this button:
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Many thanks to everyone who has contributed to the Cobles. If you haven’t yet, please watch their story and consider chipping in. They’re one of the most fun families I’ve ever met, and I just love them.
“ Hell is where they play all the good music.” - I love that, can I get Sammers’ permission to use this phrase in similar circumstances?
Those are some good deal breakers.
Making me wait-- for an appt, on hold... I will leave or hang up.
The J hate is a deal breaker. I won't vote for you. I won't read your books, watch your movies...