Wedding Do's and Don'ts

I'll be the first to admit weddings are fun.

Who doesn't like a big party with food, cake, booze, and old people getting drunk and dancing their little tushies off?

I've been to several weddings in my time, and have partaken in a myriad of different styles. From the short and quick ceremonies, to the long and sleep inducing. From Christian, to Catholic, to Hindu. Indoor, outdoor, from California to Alaska.

Now I'm not getting married ANY time soon, but I've definitely learned a little bit about what to do, and not to do in wedding execution.

DO...

have a nice quick wedding ceremony so that the real reason we're all here (the reception) can start.

DON'T...

Allow the ceremony to extend beyond say 15 minutes.

First of all, weddings are usually in the summertime.

Summer = hot.

Now I'm no mathematician, but it seems to me, if you multiply the above equation with the coefficient of typical wedding attire, you end up with an answer that equals sweaty discomfort.

I've been to a couple of outdoor weddings where I'm sweating my well-dressed ass off waiting for the damn "I do's" so we can get in the shade. I'm adhering to dress code wearing my pressed suit jacket that somehow is not available with Nike moisture wicking technology. But when we finally get in the shade, the well-insulated suit jacket has got to stay on because pit stains are not exactly the "I'm single and awesome" statement I'm looking to make.

I know what you're thinking..."Arun you poor adorable thing! BUT, what if the wedding is indoors?"

Keep. It. Short.

Have you ever sat on one of those church benches for more then 5 minutes? As far as asses go, mine is decently meaty (although some might say "steel-like"), but even my booty starts going numb after sitting on that thing for more than a few minutes.

But this summer I was thrown a curve ball - an indoor wedding, not at a Church, seated in folding chairs, with ice-cream served during the ceremony.

Too good to be true, I know. So what was the catch?

Well, it was an Indian wedding....and the ceremony lasted over two hours.

OVER TWO HOURS!

Indian weddings are cool and all, but the novelty of the ceremony wore off on me after the first 15 minutes (by which point I was finished with my ice-cream). Ok, back to the Do's.

DO...

Get a minister who knows exactly what you want and what they are doing.

DON'T

Allow the minister to forget to tell the wedding goers to "please be seated" after the bride gets to the alter.

This was a first for me. I was at a wedding last week, and after the bride made it to the alter, the ministress (what do you call a female minister?) FORGOT to tell the 170 in attendance to "be seated." So we're ALL standing during the whole damn ceremony....outdoors....in the heat.

To boot, I meticulously directed chair setup the previous night to get everything lined up and staggered just right so everyone could see while seated.

Thanks to our absent minded ministress, the girls 5 rows back saw nothing but the backsides of the amazingly well-dressed and devlishly good-looking 6+ foot men in row 3 (Did I mention I was in row 3?).

DO...

Hire a DJ with a good, diverse music collection that knows you by name.

DON'T

Hire the cousin of a friend of a friend whose entire music catalogue consists of Country's Greatest Hits and a few select disco numbers on his computer.

The wedding last week had another issue.

First, the DJ couldn't pronounce the Groom's (and new bride's) last name properly. It's a pretty simple name ("Haupt" pronounced like "Howp") yet he repeatedly announced "Please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Hopt!!!"

Ok, ok...honest mistake, he's a DJ not a linguist, so just play us some hits.

Or Not.

It's a wedding. I'm not expecting much more than some current hits as well as the old wedding favorites. I thoroughly warmed up my shoulders the night before for a little "YMCA" action, and I dusted off my dancing shoes for some Electric Sliding.

Disappointment.

Instead, we got steady dose of Miley Cirus, and Cool and the Gang. Somehow, audience response wasn't quite as excited as usual when I busted out "The Worm of Wonder" during Miley Cirus' "The Climb".

DO...

Have an organized parking situation for guests.

DON'T...

Ask your brother to round up his friends to shotgun valet.

A few years ago, my buddy Jesse asked a few of us to valet for his sister's wedding. Ok no problem. I'm a good driver. I can parallel park. How hard can it be?

(Note to self: Anytime you think to yourself "how hard can it be?" its going to SUCK)

First, the wedding was at this house on top of a HUGE hill. They had the good sense to have it indoors because it was so damn hot, but we had to park each car in a dirt lot at the bottom of the hill and then sprint back up to the top as the queue of cars was growing.

Did I mention I was wearing a suit and tie...and it was hot....and it was a MAJOR hill?

So we managed to kill ourselves running up and down this hill and got all the cars finally parked. Aaaaaahhhh, re-lax-ation!...until the guests started to leave.

Four guys. We have neither ANY valet experience, nor are we organized. We have a drawer full of keys, and a dirt lot at the bottom of Mount-effing-Vesuvius full of cars. And now its dark and, of course, the lot isn't lighted.

Obviously a plan for success.

The process consisted of this:

• Guest who is ready to leave asks for car. (So far so good. We are awesome!)
• We jointly rummage through a drawer full of tangled keys to find the right one.
• Its dark though so at least two cell phones are needed for light to identify one key from another.
• Once key is found, one of us sprints down the mountain to retrieve car.
• Arun eats sh!t on one such downhill dash through uneven terrain and dirties suit. Ego is preserved though because it's dark and no one sees.
• We run back and forth through the dirt lot hitting the remote lock/unlock (and occasionally alarm) button to find the right car in the pitch black dark.
• Guest wonders why he hears his car alarm in the distance.
• Arun returns with car and guests ask why suit had become muddy and wrinkled. Ego destroyed.

And Lastly....

DO...

Act like you're involved (if you're a man) in the wedding planning and give opinions on things.

DON'T...

EVER make ANY decision without consulting the bride-to-be or say something ambivalent like "you pick what you like best!" if you want to live to enjoy your wedding.

I've seen many a good man go down for these over the years. It's a delicate balance. You need to "act" involved and provide an opinion that you should be ready to change depending on the bride's reaction.

Even though she's making the decisions, you've got to make her feel like its a joint effort.

And of course, if you try and make a decision on your own, you shouldn't be getting married in the first place because you obviously have no idea what you're doing. Murphy's Law necessitates that you WILL make the wrong decision and into the dog-house you go.

So I think its fairly obvious that I now know how to perfectly plan a wedding. I've always thought it'd be cool to be one of those wedding planners running around with the headset, barking out orders.

If you're interested in hiring me now as a "Wedding Consultant of Awesomeness" feel free to contact me. As for valeting, me and my friends will be no where near that department.

Bad Education

As much as I know you all enjoy my crazy rants, no, this is not a diatribe on the current state of education in the world. It's the next best thing...an embarassing story about ME!

Well, maybe more peculiar and uncomfortable than actually embarassing.

During college, there used to be this small movie theater near my house in downtown San Luis Obispo called the "Palm Theater." Me and my friend Jeff used to like going there every now and then because that was the only theater in town that showed Independant films.

We had been on a streak of seeing great indi films before this fateful evening...before we were eternally scarred by the realism of cinema, and the assumption of a passerby.

So one evening Jeff calls me up to see if I want to grab some Chop Suey (there was a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant right next to the theater) and catch a flick at the theater. Jeff's favorite movie is "The Motorcycle Diaries" (an excellent movie) and he noticed there was a new movie playing at the Palm called "Bad Education" starring Gael Garcia Bernal (the lead actor from The Motorcycle Diaries).

He reads the description to me which is verbatim as follows: "Two children, Ignacio and Enrique, know love, the movies, and fear in a religious school at the beginning of the 60's. Father Manolo, director of the school and its professor of literature, is witness to and part of these discoveries. The three are followed through the next few decades, their reunion marking life and death. "

Sounds innocent enough right?

WRONG!

So I went into the movie hearing only this description and knowing the lead actor. We entered a really small theater which can hold maybe 70 or so, and there probably only 5 other people there. We sat down, leaving the comfortable one-seat buffer zone since the theater was relatively empty. There was a girl sitting in front of us by herself, so I started engaging her in conversation before the movie started.

Me: "Hey! So are you also a fan of the Spanish independant flicks?"
Girl: "Yes! And I love the lead actor! He's wonderful, plus he's really hot!"
Me: "Yea we like him too. He was good in Motorcycle Diaries"

Then she starts looking at Jeff and I with this really curious face.

Girl: "Is there any reason you guys have an empty seat between you guys?"
Me: "Uhh...well there's plenty of room in the theater and..."
Girl: "Oh sorry, I was just curious if you guys had a fight or something, and I didn't wanna make things awkward for you two."
Jeff: "What? No. We just had dinner, and its nice to sort of sprawl out after eating"
Girl: "Oh ok. I just thought it was kind of funny for you two to need a seat in between you."

Jeff and I were both confused by what she was talking about, but we just ignored it as the movie started.

It started out innocently enough, but soon things went downhill in a hurry. Next thing I know, there is a man in drag, performing fellatio on some other guy!

Now let me make one thing clear...nothing was explicitly shown beyond two men making out hardcore, but a LOT of disgusting acts were heavily implied.

At first I thought this was an isolated occurence and that the movie would move passed this crazy plot twist.

Nope, the whole plot was the twist. I honestly sat there watching the whole movie waiting for the blatent homosexual imagery and implications to stop, but it never happened!

I have never been so uncomfortable in my entire life. What possessed us to stay and sit through the entire movie is beyond me.

Now let me clarify, this was NOT a pornographic film, but damn well could have been for how uncomfortable I was. Just as I thought things were settling down to normalcy, BOOM!...someone cops a feel-up on another guy...BOOM!..someone fantasizes a make-out session...BOOM!...guy dresses up in drag.

When the movie finally ended, I was just sitting there with this shocked look on my face. I turn towards Jeff, and he had the same stupid look. I turned towards the girl, and she had this smirk on her face.

"That was so good! I know you guys must have enjoyed it!"

Neither of us responded. It took us a good ten minutes before the shock of what we had just witnessed wore off.

Then I realized...she totally thought we were gay!

Me: "What the HELL was that!?!"
Jeff: "I don't know! I swear I read the description and it didn't say anything about erotisism!"

I went home and read the description, and sure enough, it was exactly as quoted above. Apparently though, Jeff did manage to miss the NC-17 rating.

To this day, I cringe when I see that movie sitting on the shelf. I have nothing against the aforementioned lifestyle, as long as I don't have to see it "in action."

Gael Garcia Bernal, you're still a good actor...a little TOO good. :)

Airport Craziness

I think everyone has a love-hate relationship with airports. At least I know I do. Sure they're sort of like a bus stop for airplanes, and they keep you nice and warm while you wait for your plane to arrive. Hell, they even valet all of your luggage and make sure none of your fellow passengers are carrying any weapons.

But those of you that know me, and those of you who don't but read my blog, know that I can rant about almost anything. Yes, the Airport is no exception, and from the many trips I've embarked upon over the years, I've noticed some downright nonsensical things.

It all starts with the lines. When you go to an airport, there is a minimum of three lines you have to wait through. One for check in, one for security, and one for boarding. On my last international adventure, I had to wait in FIVE lines in Chennai International Airport. There was an additional line for checked baggage screening and a second security line at the gate.

Ok, I understand and respect the need for security, but common...FIVE lines to wait through is a little excessive.

Then you get to your gate where you wait around for the boarding call. It's always interesting to observe what people do to pass the time. I'm always scared to sleep for fear of missing my plane. I also don't like to listen to music yet because I'm afraid I'll miss some important announcement like a gate change or something.

Then, if you decided to go peruse a store, you've got to deal with toting your luggage around behind you. I usually just bring a backpack with me, so this isn't much of a problem, but a lot of people have those mini-suitcases with the rollers that aren't exactly the most nimble little things when navigating through isles.

What if you get hungry? Bad news. Crossing security in an airport is like entering Earth - year 2040, where after 33 years of inflation running rampant, everything costs triple what it should.

Sandwich? 8 bucks.
Bottle of Water? 3 bucks
Cinnabun? 5 bucks

I usually stroll into the magazine store and treat it like a library, reading stuff until its almost boarding time.

A lot of airports these days have more than just the food and magazine places. Many, especially international airports, are like mini malls! Honestly, I don't know how these places stay in business because who really buys regular stuff at an airport?

In Malaysia, there were designer stores all over the place! I'm perplexed as to how they manage to sell anything. "Ah Shucks! Maybe I'll just pick up this Gucci shirt before I get on the plane!" I'm not even considering the fact that this is Gucci - year 2040 where the shirt is God-knows-how-much-more.

The best stores are those ones that carry all of the gizmo's you see in "Sky mall" Magazine, mostly because everything is plugged in! If you're lucky, one of those crazy electronic message chairs (which give mediocre messages but its better than nothing) will be vacant and you can just chill in the store until they kick you out.

And speaking of messages, its always fun to chat with people in other airports, and find out what they do and where they're going. The coolest person I ever met in airport was in Las Vegas when I was on the way to Alaska. I was in line at a ridiculously overpriced Starbucks when this phenomenally cute girl got in line behind me. (of course this had nothing to do with why I starting talking to her :)

We started chatting and she revealed to me the she is from Atlanta. Now however she lives in Hawaii and is a professional masseuse.

Postulate number 505 in "Arun's Guide to Lifetime Awesomeness": Cute Girl + Hawaii + Masseuse = Happy Arun.

As much as I wanted to change my ticket right then and there to go to Hawaii instead of frigid Alaska, I knew I couldn't. Instead I began scheming of ways to temporarily take advantage of the abilities of my new friend. The conversation went like this:

Me: "How do you manage to massage people all day? Don't your hands get tired?"
Cute Girl: "No, you build special muscles when you do it all the time. You wouldn't be able to do it all day."
Me: (incredulously) What!?! Are you saying I'm weak!?! (now sarcastically) You know, I DO work out!"
Cute Girl: (Laughing at my shocked facial expression more than my joke) "No! I didn't mean that!" (now sarcastically) "You are really strong. (proceeds to playfully squeeze my arm feeling my muscle)

At this, I sensed an opportunity, and I charged full speed ahead!

Me: "OOH! You know my arm is a little sore there!"
Her: (now massaging my arm) "How's that?"
Me: "That's good my but (now with a rye smile on my face) my back is even worse!"
Her: "Well why don't we go sit down."

BINGO! Free half hour massage! She also said if I ever go to Hawaii, I could go and get one from her for FREE! Too bad I don't remember the island she lives on, nor her name. All I remember is that she works at the Sheraton Hotel.

Now, on the other side of the spectrum, let me share with you my worst airport experience courtesy of India Airlines.

I arrived at the airport in New Delhi around 8am for a 10am flight down to Chennai. Flight gets delayed to 11am. No big deal delays happen all the time

Flight gets delayed again to 12pm. This kind of sucks!

12pm rolls around I hear this lovely announcement: "Good afternoon! Flight XXX to Chennai, India is now cancelled. Have a good day!"

Have a good day??? Are you kidding me! I'll show you "have a good day!"

It turns out the grounds crews for Indian airlines went on strike. What ensued thereafter was total chaos. There is no structure in the Indian airports! In America, there's a nice roped off line to the ticket counter that you wait in. In India, there are multiple "lines" but everyone tries to merge in and cut in front of you. Eventually this turns into just a giant mob of people at the ticket counter.

We basically had sneak and muscle our way up to the front to speak with the clerk. To save you the frustration eliciting details, let me just say, I was stuck at the airport from 8 in the morning until 9:30 at night when we finally took off.

When it finally comes time to board, and this is true in most any airport, its funny to observe how everyone is in such a rush to get on the plane. As soon as they announce boarding, everyone stands up and starts crowding the front of the line.

I don't know what the rush to be the first on the airplane is. I personally would rather sit in that thing as little as possible.

Somehow, people still don't know that they board first class first, then people travelling with small children, then everyone else by section.

Then there are those people who try to weasel in early by tyring to use their 10 year old kid as a "small child." Please.

Others try to sneak in even if the current section boarding is not theirs. I always enjoy it when the Gate Agent doesn't let them on and makes them embarrassingly step aside until their section is called.

And thus starts the second half of your adventure...The Airplane Journey!

The Boomerang Effect

For those of you "Daily Remedy" regulars, you already know, that I love everything about social interactions. This interest has actually raised over the years and still continues to grow. As a kid, I used to get in trouble a lot in class for talking too much.

I can only imagine the terror I would be now!

One of the things that I've always been pretty good at is making friends. Yes, making friends. I honestly get along with practically everybody. Sure there are people I don't particularly care for, but I still get along with them, and in general, most people are always pretty nice!

Recently, I was thinking about how I interact with other people and why I manage to make great friends. I know this is no breakthrough in the history of social science whatsoever, but I don't think most people actually think about the way they interact with people.

I have discovered the secrets to always having great interactions! I call it "The Boomerang Effect!

OK,ok, its actually not much different than the cliche' "Do unto others as you'd have done to yourself." But, I've added a little "Arun Flava" to this and made it my own theory.

Essentially, it boils down to making the people around you feel great. The beauty of this is, that you will naturally feel great in response and people will naturally gravitate towards you and make you feel great too!

Big deal right? Well, after my intense analysis, I've broken down a couple of interesting natural behaviors of mine that I think help me get along with people.

1. Being a "Namer." Last week, a couple of girls that I've recently become acquainted with mentioned I am a "namer." Apparently, a namer is a person who, in conversation with someone else, uses that persons name quite a bit. I thought about this for awhile and realized that I do use peoples names a LOT in conversation.

They went on to talk about how it subtly makes the recipient feel good when someone is a namer. I thought about this statement and realized how true this is ESPECIALLY when first meeting someone. I am always skeptical of people remembering my name when I meet them, but when they do, and they use it, it actually does make me feel pretty good (despite being consciously aware of this relation most of the time). I definitely think being a namer has an unacknowledged, yet powerful effect on subtly (and unintentionally on my end) making someone feel great.

2. Optimism. Looking at everything with a "glass half full" perspective comes out when interacting with people and makes everyone feel good. People can't help but feed off of someone who radiates positive energy, and being optimistic about not only your endeavors, but other peoples as well creates a great atmosphere.

3. Immediate comfort. Some people take some time to "warm up" when meeting new people and don't really break out of their shell until they feel comfort. Well I'm obviously not one of those types of people. I generally conversate with everyone as if I already know them.

I am kind of a joker by nature, and I like to tease my friends a lot. In fact, I think teasing is great because everybody gets a good laugh but no one is really offended. At first, I think new people are kind of surprised that I would tease them when I don't even know them, but its always in good spirit, and they quickly realize that its just my joker nature. These fun interactions seem to build rapport really fast.

4. Body Language. Number one, is the magic of smiling! I could write an entire post about the power that a simple smile has! It radiates so much positive energy that people just HAVE to like you if you smile a lot!

Also, positive touching is also great (keep your minds out of the gutter!). Just things like patting someone on the back or a playful punch to the shoulder establishes a new level of comfort. Again, I was totally unaware I did this until someone pointed out to me that I do this. The scientific term for this type of touching is called "Kinaesthetics."

I was hesitant to write this post for a few reasons. One is, I am afraid as coming off as arrogant or artificial claiming that "I have discovered the secret to making friends and use these secrets all the time!" That is not the case.

After chatting with some friends over the years and recently just thinking about what makes me who I am, I realized that these are behaviors of mine that happen to help me make friends. This morning, I received an email from a friend thanking me for something subtle I said last night and didn't even think about. I called her a "world class hugger" because she honestly gives great hugs. She emailed me saying "that really means a lot to me because I love hugging!"

That actually made me feel really good that something as little as that compliment, made her feel good enough to send me an email.

Classic Boomerang Effect. I happened to make her feel good last night, and she reciprocated with gratitude. Plus, I'm sure I'll be getting a lot more great hugs!

The Feminization of Arun?

Jeez I hope not.

I consider my myself kind of an all-around guy. Not too fruity or metro sexual, but not exactly the alpha-male, Man's Man either. I work-out and keep myself well groomed for the most part (although some would argue that the "longish" hair that I'm rocking right now is a little out of control), but I don't spend any real money on grooming.

I received an interesting offer this weekend.

My friend Renata tells me that a good friend of hers is finishing up cosmetology school and they really need male "models" to work on, since pretty much the only people that come in are female.

Me: "Haha! There's no way I'm paying the ludicrous prices that these places charge for any type of cosmetology service!"
Renata: "Oh but it's FREE!"
Me: "Tell me more."

Don't we all love the magical word of "Free!"

So I was honestly still pretty skeptical since sitting in some chair for an hour while someone is dolling me up doesn't sound too appealing. But then she said the other magic word.

Renata: "A big part of this also involves a MASSAGE"
Me: "Sign me up!"

She signed me up and told me it was basically some kind of "facial" where they exfoliate and moisturize my skin and then give a massage for the rest of the time. It's free because it's a student (Renata's friend) doing it, and they really need guys.

I was all excited to be signed up for a free massage until she dropped this bomb on me.

Renata: "Oh yea, the facial might also involve a little eyebrow waxing..."

Ok, if there's any word that defeats "free" and "massage," it's definitely "waxing."

Me: "What!?! Uhhh, I don't think this is happening."
Renata: "Well I already signed you up. But there's one more thing I forgot to mention....."
Me: "One more thing? What?!"
Renata: "Well they kind of need the male models to also be prepared to get a male bikini wax"
Me: "WHAT!!!!??? NO WAY! GET ME OUT OF THIS!"
Renata: (Laughing at my incredulous oration on why no rational man should ever even consider getting waxed in "the sacred area of good stuff."

The next day, I did some research on the Internet to see what men had to say about bikini waxing. Here are some direct quotes:

"Any man who doesn't pop at least 4 Advil before getting a wax job, may not make it out alive. The tenderness does eventually subside and I feel silky smooth."

"After icing my 'area' for a couple of days after, the product looked great!"

These testimonials weren't exactly convincing. After some debate, I finally convinced Renata to let me talk to Heloisa (the friend performing the procedure) so that I may put my negotiating skills to work. After some time and a few jokes, I finally made it clear that I would do this providing no wax even come near me.

So I went in and had an incredibly relaxing massage, and yes, a facial. I have to admit, I did enjoy it. It was actually really relaxing, and I told them that I'd be willing to return any time they need male models provided waxing is not so much as even mentioned.

I don't know how you ladies do the waxing thing, but I will never be feminized enough to do it!

Arun Versus The Bee

I normally don't like writing posts on small daily activities because I don't want this blog to be like a daily journal or diary, most of which I find incredibly uninteresting. The purpose of this website is to be entertaining while allowing me to share my rants, commentaries, advice, and adventures.

Keeping that in mind, I had no intention of sharing the following story, but after telling this account to a couple of people who found it humorous, I thought I'd go ahead and share. To cover everything, I'll give you a time by time account, and for dramatic effect, I'll tell the story in the third person.

Tuesday

7:30 - Arun comes into office. All is quiet.

7:35 - Arun brews a delicious cup of decaf coffee and sits down at desk ready to work, with earphones streaming The Adam Carolla Show.

7:40 - Arun hears a buzzing and wonders if it's the music in his headphones. Removing headphones he continues to hear an incredibly noisy buzzing. Arun looks up and locates the source. A Bee!

7:43 - Arun tries to work and ignore the bee, but the bee keeps going into the light housing and its wings are beating against the metal causing an incredibly noisy reverberation.

7:45 - Arun twiddles thumbs waiting for the damn bee to hurry up and leave his office. The stupid bee however is content to buzz around the ceiling lights and annoy Arun incessantly.

7:52 - Fed up, Arun stands up and rolls a piece of paper up planning to possibly swat Mr Bee. This turns out to be a bad idea because:
A) The florescent lights have this plastic grid protecting them so its hard to get a clean swipe at the bee.
B) Arun fears missing at a swat attempt and possibly pissing off Mr. Bee, and
C) If Arun goes for an extra aggressive swat with something bigger and heavier, there's a damn good chance that the florescent light will explode in his face. Arun's face is too handsome to risk any remote chance of harm.

As an aside, this Mr. Bee was one smart cookie. It's as if he knew he was taunting me. He would start up his buzzing every few minutes. Just when I thought he was done, he'd start up again. Then he'd poke his little body out, and I'd jump up thinking I could get him, but as soon as I got close, he'd retreat behind the lights.

8:55 - Arun attempts and fails to ignore Mr. Bee and be productive, but Mr. Bee is persistent in his annoyance.

9:10 - Fed up, Arun says allowed, "Fine! You wanna play Bee?!? This is war!"

9:15 - Arun goes around office rounding up a small stash of rubber bands.

9:25 - Arun returns to office with a stash of ammunition and practices aiming and firing at a makeshift bulls eye drawn on his white board.

9:35 - Arun crouches behind office door waiting for Mr. Bee to come out and play. Mr. Bee however seems to know what I'm up to and remains in hiding, still buzzing against the metal.

9:45 - Strategizing, Arun sits at desk with weapons at easy access. To his left are the rubber bands, ready to fire, as well as a notepad for swatting, and a heavy book to finish Mr. Bee off.

10:45 - Arun returns from meeting and notices Mr. Bee is resting on the plastic grid in the lights. Apparently he thought he could rest while I was gone, and now he has his back to me so he has no idea I'm here! This is my chance!

10:46 - Arun grabs handful of bands and commences firing!!!

10:47 - The first two shots are misses. Mr. Bee starts flying frantically in the lights. Arun pulls back for the third shot knowing his window of opportunity is shrinking. Mr Bee will soon go into hiding, and this is his best chance.

10:48 - Arun releases third shot. HIT!!!! Mr. Bee falls to the ground, injured.

At that very moment, I knew it would soon be over. The battle of Man vs. Bee would soon be over.

10:49 - Arun grabs note pad and swats downed Bee. He's still moving! Arun lunges for giant book and throws it down with tremendous force causing a huge sound. It's over.

10:50 - Office neighbors walk over to see what all of the commotion is about. An exhausted Arun explains the epic war that was just fought, and that he was able to successfully defeat the intruders.

10:55 - All is quiet in Arun's Office, and he takes a quick nap to prepare for lunchtime basketball.

What a morning.

Four Exercises Every Guy Should Avoid

I'll be the first to admit that today's "Remedy" is completely superficial, but the fact of the matter is, most people, despite our convictions, are swayed by certain superficial things.

Like it or not, we all judge a book, at least partially, by its cover.

One of the places where people congregate to improve their "cover" is the gym. Sure a lot of people (including me) exercise to be healthy, but seriously, how many of us would bust our backsides everyday in the gym if it didn't contribute to our physical appearance? I know my motivation would go down (but luckily I'm genetically blessed devilish good looks :)

Oh but looks aren't the only first impression we make on people! Actions are just as important! Think about it. Suppose you see a good-looking guy doing ballet. Odds are he's either gay (not that there's anything wrong with that) or a fruit (yes there is something wrong with that).

Yes I'm making gross generalizations, but this is my blog and damnit I want to unfairly generalize people today!

Keeping these aforementioned observations in mind, I would like to save any of you men out there from looking like a fruit at the gym. Nobody respects a fruit, and I don't want any of my readers to ever accidentally enter "Fruit Zone."

Before I get to the actual exercises you should avoid, let me add this disclaimer: you can avoid every exercise on this list, but nothing can save you from fruit status if you're wearing extremely short and tight shorts.

My God those things are terrible. There's nothing that screams "Tooty Too Fruity" more than those oversized speedos.

Now, the moment you've been waiting for. Four exercises any self-respecting, female desiring, and yes, somewhat superficial Man should avoid.

1. The High Speed Elliptical: Notice the words "high speed." I actually think that the elliptical is a great machine and use it on occasion because its easy on the joints (and if I do it, by definition it cannot be fruity). The problem arises if you try to run on that thing. Trust me. Going any faster than 5 mph makes any man look like a prancing gazelle. Put some resistance on the thing for God's sake!

Look around, and you'll see a lot of women flying on that thing! That's great for them, but I would rather avoid looking like a prancing gazelle. (As a side note, wasn't there an infomercial once for an elliptical machine called the Gazelle? I seem to remember a muscle-bound guy who was the epitome of a fruit which further supports my case!)

2. The Fancy-"Nancy" Stairmaster. Again, another machine I like because it really kicks your ass. I'm not talking about the one where you shuffle your feet really fast, but rather the one with the rotating stairs that you actually step on.

When on the stairmaster, face forward, and step all you want to your heart's content. Never, ever follow any of the routines you might catch a chick at the gym doing on those things! I don't know where they get these moves, but on any given stairmaster, there's a girl who does it like sideways, and then does a slow kick thing behind them on each step, and finally follows that by skipping steps, kicking the hind leg out while giving a hip shimmy.

Honestly, do I need to explain why no man should do this?

3. Aerobics class. Sure we all fantasize about being the guy in the "Call on Me" Music Video (see below), but that will never happen.

To put it simply, sideways cha-cha's, hip thrusts, and arm curls with no weights do not make a guy look flattering. And no, doing an aerobics class to meet chicks is not an acceptable excuse. If that's your intent, it likely totally transparent, and if it's not, then you're a fruit! Cut and dry.

4. Hip Abductor/Adductor. No man should ever be caught on this machine! In case you're not familiar with machine, it basically consists of sitting down with pads around your legs, then squeezing your thighs together and apart. Here is the Hip Adductor in Action

In case you haven't noticed, everyone of these exercises is extremely effeminate. A fruit, according to the Urban Dictionary can be defined as: "He's not exactly gay, but just womanly enough to be gay."

Next time you go to work out, remember to keep these exercises out of your routine. And if you happen to see a man performing any of these activities, don't laugh. Just take a mental picture of the fruit you could have been, and relish in your extreme Manlihood!

Elevator Etiquette

We're in them almost everyday. There just another part, another room of the building, yet for some reason we all feel the need to change our behavior when we enter the elevator!

Look around next time you enter an occupied or crowded elevator and you'll notice some interesting peculiarities.

Most people enter the elevator and generally saddle up next to one of the railings while staring straight ahead saying absolutely nothing.

Rule number 1 in "Unspoken Elevator Etiquette": Enter, remain absolutely silent, and look at nobody!

I always enjoy the people who are fascinated with the elevator inspection sign. They just stand there staring at it, yet if you were to ask them what they just read, they'd have no idea. It kind of serves as a "target" for people to stare at and pretend to be reading, thus avoiding any "elevator conversation" which we all know is taboo!

Honestly, when I enter the elevator, I do have a couple of small things I do to. I used to always check and see if it was equipped with that little phone behind a door. I always felt more comfortable knowing I had some sort of communication with the outside world, just in case the elevator gets stuck (this was before the age of cell phones).

Sometimes when I'm in a crowded elevator, I casually glance at the max weight sign, then take a guess as to how much load the elevator is carrying. Inevitably, Fatty McFatterson steps on to the elevator at the next floor at which point I start worrying just a tad...especially when you feel the elevator bounce a little everytime it stops!

There's also the issue of holding the elevator door. Its funny how everybody has their own "point of no stoppage" when it comes to holding the elevator door as it starts closing. Some people absolutely refuse to stick an arm out if the door starts closing at all while others will go all the way until you can only fit a finger in to get the door to reopen!

I'm somewhere in between. Even though I know the elevator door isn't going to crush my hand, instinctively its hard to throw an arm in there as the jaws are collapsing!

And now for an interesting elevator story:

In high school, I used to work at a local fitness club as a tennis instructor. When the normal court maintenance guy was gone, I would clean the courts and refill the big water coolers on each court.

Now this was no simple chore because these coolers were pretty big and generally at least half full of water and ice when I had to change them. To compound matters, the cafeteria where we went to replenish the water was upstairs, so carrying each of the coolers up individually would require a mountain of effort which I wasn't willing to give.

To solve this problem, the cafeteria let us use their cart/dolly type thing, if you could call it that. It was basically a rickety board on four multi directional wheels (like on the front of a shopping cart) with a handle that came up to waste height.

It was always an adventure getting the coolers from the tennis courts to the cafeteria. I'd load two or three of these things onto the cart and make my way down the hall and into the elevator.

Brilliantly, the elevator opens up on the second floor directly onto the running track. In order to get to the cafeteria from the elevator, you have to cross this busy track.

Oh but I'm not done!

The track was also elevated about an inch from the ground, so to get over the track, I have to move the cart to the back of the elevator, and gather some speed to get over the hump and onto the track, then maintain this speed to get off the track on the other end.

Brilliant design Mr. Architect.

Theorem 781 in "Arun's Guide to Lifetime Awesomeness" states: big water watercoolers + rickety old cart + highspeed bumps = bad news.

So one sunny Saturday, I'm making my way from the cafeteria back to the elevator with three coolers full of water. Crossing the track from the cafe to the elevator is made tougher because, pushing the cart, you can't see around the entry wall for oncoming traffic, so you have to just kind of go, and hope.

So, as usual, I gather speed and push the cart over the bump onto the track. Suddenly, I notice a runner in my path so I stop abruptly to let him pass.

I stopped. The Cart stopped. The Giant Water Coolers kept going.

It was like slow motion. They hit the track, and for an instant, they just layed there. All was safe?...I'm not that lucky. The lids simultaneously popped off from the impact and the water pressure. The running track became a slip n' slide.

Oh but I'm not done.

This spillage occured right in front of the elevator which happened to be right at the corner of the track where it banks for runners. What this means, is all of the water was draining into the elevator shaft!

Did I mention the brilliance of the architects?

I, slightly panicked, first wanted to get the cart and water coolers off of the track. I threw everything in the elevator and went down to unload them and grab towels. The elevator door opened and the only thing I could see was a waterfall in front of me from all the water flowing down the shaft. Once I made it under the water fall, I was greeted by a thoroughly pissed janitorial and maintenance crew.

Management wasn't too happy with me that day. The elevator was "out of order" for the next few days. which meant the normal tennis court maintenance guy had to carry each cooler up the stairs for the rest of the week to fill them.

At least I saved him the trouble of having to observe "Elevator Etiquette."

The Game-Killer

Many of us have heard about them, and a few of us are unlucky enough to meet them. I am one of the few.

The "Game-Killer" title must be used very carefully when applying it to a person. Only those possessing vast powers of "negative game" qualify for the Game-Killer title. So what is negative game? Allow me to briefly define these vital levels of game:

The Zero (he who has "no game") - This is the guy who goes out and doesn't talk to anybody. He is crippled by shyness, and essentially does nothing to affect the surrounding environment that would either help your game (reel the chics in) or kill your game (drive them away!). He is a non-factor.

The Gamer (he who has "positive game") - This is the guy you ideally would like to hang out with. He's super social, talks to everybody, and basically brings the party to you! Hanging out with this guy is always an experience and you end up meeting tons of people!

The Lost Cause (he who has "negative game") - You DO NOT want to hang out with this guy. He has an inherent quality of repulsiveness that drives the ladies (and the guys for that matter) away. This comes in various shapes and forms, from the "sleezy" type, to the nerd-balls who won't shut up about their new computer at work or their last game of "Dungeons and Dragons."

The Gamekiller. (he who has God-like abilities of feminine repulsion the likes of which few have yet to encounter) Now to be classified as a game-killer, one must have a special talent, part genetic, part idiotic for killing the game of those in his immediate environment. Actually, it goes beyond immediate environment. By simply admitting you KNOW the Gamekiller people are turned off by your association even if he's not there!

Not too long ago, I had the misfortune of meeting a Gamekiller.

This guy, who we'll call "GK," was a friend of a friend. After realizing his status as an elite negative gamer, I consulted my friend and expressed my concern. Luckily, ties are being cut from the Game-Killer as we speak.

Yes, this man almost single-handedly killed "Sunday Funday" a couple of weeks ago.

So a couple of weeks ago, Bryan decides to invite GK out with us to Sunday Funday. I'm don't know this guy really aside from briefly meeting him once, so I'm pretty indifferent. All I really know is that he's kind of "hickish" and has one of his front teeth missing.

Immediately after showing up, he starts annoying Brian and I by incessantly complaining about the whole five blocks we have to walk to Lahaina's bar on the beach. Little did I know, this was just the start. To spare you the painful details, let me summarize GK's gamekilling moves of the day.

-I invite a number of different groups of people to "share" our table (ie set their pitchers down on our table while we all hang out). Every group that comes up, GK starts trying to barter with them so he can have some of their beer for "allowing" them to use our table. At least two groups get fed up and leave.

-He claims to have no money and beats around buying any pitchers for the three of us, so Brian and I have to constantly leave and get another one while GK is left to wreak havoc on the groups we've invited over while drinking the beer we've bought.

-After I lightly chew him out for bugging everyone for beer, he finally buys a pitcher from the cute waitress but doesn't tip her, so we never see her again.

-We meet this group from Canada who's pretty friendly but he keeps pestering them with ridiculous questions like: "what's the money like there?" "What do you say differently there?" "Is the food different?" "Why do you say 'eh'?" Dude, it's freaking Canada, not Abu Dabi!!! No wonder they were getting irritated!!! It's on the same level as when people find out I'm from Alaska and they ask, "Is it cold up there?"

-At another bar, he again does not tip the bartender. One girl sees this and gives our group (which had grown by this point) an awkward look. I then notice he didn't tip and call the bartender over so that I can at least tip him.

Yes friends, he was a bonified Game-Killer. It took our combined powers of Game to defeat him and make Sunday Funday another success, but it was a close call!

For the sake of humanity, I ask each of you to truthfully evaluate yourself, and at all costs, prevent being the Game-Killer. After probably the quickest deliberation in the history of deliberations, we all decided GK was guilty and is no longer coming to Sunday Funday...well at least not with our group.

I know none of MY readers could possibly be Game-Killers, but that doesn't mean you won't encounter one someday. Just remember to continually improve your game, so that on the fateful day you may be in a Game-Killer's presence, you have the tools to overcome and defeat him! Good luck.

Arun Hangs Out With/Cons the Real World/Road Rules Cast

This has got to be the longest, most descriptive title I've ever used. At first, I was going to think up one of my normally clever titles, but this seemed appropriate and intriguing enough to make people want to read.

I have to be honest. There is rarely a dull or boring moment in my life. If I see one approaching, I generally find either something productive to do, or some trouble to get into. Hey, they (and by 'they,' I mean 'me') don't call me "Adventurous Arun" for nothing!

So last Saturday, Bruno, Frederico, and I decided to head over to the Yardhouse to hang out and have a couple beers. We hang out upstairs for awhile and decide to go check out this lounge area downstairs. Unfortunately we have to wait in line for about 10 minutes to get in.

As I'm standing in line, I'm joking around with Frederico, doing my fake Australian accent and he is hysterical with laughter. He tells me I HAVE to do the accent to the first person I talk to once we get in the lounge. No problem. I have a few accents in my repertoire that I can do pretty well, and one is the Aussie.

Bruno then turns to me and says that he saw some camera's around and that he thinks the current Real World/Road Rules cast is at the bar! At first I didn't believe him, but then I saw Susie from Road Rules walk out holding some guys hand! Now I'm not huge into Road Rules or Real World, but I will admit I've seen quite a few episodes over the years, so I am familiar with some of cast members. Apparently the current cast is made up of veteran Real World and Road Rules cast members.

So I get into the lounge, and the first thing I notice is the completely unnatural seen caused by the Road Rules cast and crew. They're at some booth drinking, but they're surrounded by cameras, extra lights, and a boom-mic on a poll. There is no way anyone can act "natural" under these conditions. Bruno tries to get over to the table but there are actually security guards on either side, not letting anyone "unauthorized" in.

Meanwhile I, staying true to my word, go up to this cute girl and start talking to her in my full-on Australian accent. She is completely charmed. In fact, I wasn't really acting any different than normal other than doing the accent, but then I had to create an elaborate story to explain my supposed background growing up in Australia and how I came to San Diego etc.

This girl totally loved me. In the process of being from Australia, I also pretend to have no idea of what the Road Rules or the Real World are because they're "not that popular on Aussie Tele!" An entertaining conversation ensued:

Me: "Me Mate Bruno told me those blokes are on the Tele"
Her: "Yea, they're practically famous here in the U.S.!"
Me: "I di'int recognize them, but it has gotta be great to be famous in this country!"
Her: "Arun, you are SO HOT (I told you she loved me) and you could totally be on the show!"
Me: "That'd but absolutely amazing!"

At this point, the Road Rulers leave the booth to go drink and dance.

Her: "You HAVE to meet them!"

I was actually beginning to like this girl. She was super enthusiastic and was all about getting me to meet all the Real World/Road Rulers. So, no joke, we literally go up to each one and she introduces me as follows:

Her: "This is my friend Arun from Australia and he wants to be famous! Isn't he HOT! (did I mention she loved me?) He could totally be on the show, couldn't he!?!

I would then politely interject and tell them that I didn't really know who they were, but that I think its cool that they're so entertaining to Americans. Interestingly, the think the cast members liked me so much because I (supposedly) didn't know who they were and was completely oblivious to their "fame."

So we ended up kind of hanging out in the lounge for a little while and I even danced with (and got a peck on the cheek from) Kina! (She was one of the only ones that I recognized). In fact, she was thoroughly fascinated by my "Australian background," and I think slightly enamored by my charming yet oblivious nature.

We ended up taking pictures with all of them with, though I don't have any because it was with other people's camera's. Don't be shocked if you see a picture of the Road Rulers with good ol' me giving a rye smile somewhere in the middle, floating around on myspace.

The three cast members I actually hung out with were Derek, David, and Kina. I was actually surprised by how nice all of them really were. Turns out they're in the current season of Road Rules 2007: Viewers' Revenge.

So did I ever come clean??? No freaking way. I was in too deep, and coming clean would have made me look like some kind of a no-good, lowdown, con (even though technically I was a con). Truthfully, I wasn't planning on being Australian with all the Road Rulers, but since this girl I met was introducing me to everyone, I couldn't break character, so I just had to roll with it!

I actually wanted to get the girls phone number, but didn't for three reasons.

1. There was no way I was going to come clean. It was too late for damage control!
2. I didn't want to lead this charade any longer. I can't imagine having to do this damn accent for a whole date!
3. She definitely had potential to be a clinger.

FYI, this is actually the first time I've ever totally conned someone into thinking something about me that I'm not. I occasionally fake the Indian accent, but I always come clean once everyone's had a sufficient laugh. I actually felt bad doing it to the girl for so long, but in retrospect, I do find it quite awesome that everyone believed me! I've decided not to do it any more, unless I'm talking to someone I have very little interest in, in which case "Australian Arun" may make another appearance.

It's funny how randomly this all unfolded, but what fun is life without a little bit of randomness!? I'll going to try actually watch this Wednesday's episode of Road Rules. I don't think I made it on camera, but there's a chance my Australian counterpart did!

Six Ridiculous Inventions We Use Everyday

In you haven't been able to tell from reading any of my previous posts, I like to observe common everyday occurrences, and then make you all aware of how quirky some of them are. Well in today's edition of Daily Remedy (although I suppose its more like "Every-two-or-three-daily Remedy") I'm going to point out to you six inventions parts thereof, that have managed to stay in our lives over the years, despite there uselessness or inefficiency.

Usually these types of inventions are either temporary fads, or eventually get phased out. What types of inventions are these? How about: The Pogo-ball, Moon Shoes, Crystal Clear Pepsi, that Twirly-Bop thing women were supposed to use in there hair to get some crazy new doo, robot vacuum cleaners, Jolt, and a plethora of "Made for TV" items that you buy at Wal-Mart and never use.

Occasionally, some of these inventions slip through the cracks and somehow manage to remain in our daily lives. Its kind of like having gum on the bottom of your shoe. You know its there, but you also know how much of a pain it is to remove it, so you let it be. Everybody knows subconsciously how half-baked these inventions are, but no one really acknowledges their absurdity...that is until NOW! Yes, friends. I, Arun "Observer of All," am here to make my contribution to society. As a public service, I bring to you Six Ridiculous Inventions that have managed to weasel their way into our lives and stubbornly stick around.

1. The Revolving Door. You see them everywhere yet they must be the most inefficient door ever! You go up, and first of all you need to time your entrance and slip into one of the little slots if there's traffic going through. Its like you're playing freakin double dutch, and you have to time your entrance just right so that the jump rope (or the door in this case) doesn't catch you. Then, you need to keep up with the pace of the person in front of you. If the person in front is pushing to fast, the door nails you in the heals. The door's not that easy to push either. Its such a large apparatus that it actually takes some effort.

Then there's the bozo's who don't know it's ONE person per slot, and they jump in the same slot as you! Now you're awkwardly crowded in this little slot with someone stepping on your heals. Apparently normal doors were just not cutting it, so they (The Man) decided to make this huge piece of crap to irritate rational people like me!

2. M&M Minis. I loooove chocolate, and from a pure taste standpoint, I really like the taste of M&M Minis, but seriously. What were regular M&M's so big for us to handle that they had to make Minis? Great! Now instead of being able to stuff only 30 M&M's in my mouth, I can stuff 50! Brilliant! I challenge you to find one human mouth in this world than cannot comfortably accommodate an M&M.

I mean, I understand the concept of candy bars releasing bite size versions (also known as "fun size" which doesn't make sense to me because for me, "fun size" = "King Size") for portion control or whatever, but M&M's are already bite size! Actually, for a normal person, 20 M&M's is bite size. Somehow this useless addition has remained in the checkout line right next to its normal sized counterpart.

3. Moving Walkways. Actually, its not the walkway itself that I have a problem with, but its the "standing lane" on the walk way that's ridiculous! What, is walking so much effort that we have to have giant belts to usher people around to save them the energy? I think walkways are a good thing to have in large airports, especially when you're in a rush, but seriously, do we really need to have two lanes? And then, when you're actually in a rush, you have to squeeze past the lazy bastards standing on the walkway, who also are usually "width challenged", which makes for no simple task.

4. Tylenol Regular Strength. How is this still on the market when Tylenol Extra Strength is available for the same price? I'm willing to bet 95% of sick people would go for the "extra strength" variety when they are sick. In fact, just to make sure I was justified, I checked the recommended dosage and it is the same for both. So why would anyone take Tylenol Regular Strength to feel twice as good, when you can take Extra Strength and feel four times as good?

5. White-Out. Honestly, who the hell uses white-out anymore? Yet, go to the office supply section of Walmart and there's five different types to choose from. Do you honestly think you're going to fool someone by making the blunder blend in with the paper as if nothing ever happened? Rather than simpling drawing a strike through the incorrect word, someone felt like it would be better to have the ability to put some goop on the paper, wait for it to dry, then write over the goop in order to hide a mistake.

All this is assuming that you're writing on totally white paper which is rarely the case. Most people write on ruled paper which happens to be off white, thus rendering the whole purpose of white-out useless! How are they still in business?

6. Automatic Hand Dryers. After going to the bathroom, it's normal habit to wash your hands. Somewhere along the way, someone decided it was to much waste to use paper towels for drying. Instead, they invented an annoyingly noisy and energy consuming hand dryer. This may be the OUTRIGHT WINNER for dumb inventions.

Seriously, you finish washing, hit the button, and have the wait five freaking minutes to get any semblance of dryness. If you actually want your hands to be completely dry, you have to hit the button three times and stay there for a good seven minutes. I can probably count the number of times I've actually waited under that damn dryer to completely dry my hands, on one hand.

Its funny because, after washing, almost everyone hits the button thinking, "Hey, maybe THIS time the dryer will actually do something and dry my hands!" Inevitably, they give up and leave after ten seconds.

What's even more absurd are the hand dryers that they sometimes have mounted up high in locker rooms, for hair drying after showering. Are you kidding me? Who's gonna wait a freaking hour for their hair to dry under that thing!?!

I'm sure I must be leaving off other totally ludicrous inventions. Leave a comment and let me know what I'm leaving out. One can never have too much material to rant about!!!

Dancing Machine

I love everything about music and one of my favorite offshoots, is the art of dance. Yes friends...I have been known to bust a move or two. Now I'm no Mr. Wiggles or Riverdancer, but growing up, I loved dancing and was a big time student of Michael Jackson (yea yea, hold the jokes).

Over the years, I've made a bit of a specatacle of myself, all in the name of Dance Fever! Sure I go out and do a couple of moves here and there, and occassionally participate in a "battle" if I'm in the mood, but those have been only sideshows compared to other occasions where I've popularized (and only slightly embarrassed) myself in front of the masses!

If we look at this chronologically, I suppose the first improptu show happened when I was about 11 or 12. I had this habit of always practicing my dance moves in secret whenever I found a suitable floor surface. I found one of the best floors to slide around on was at Costco! So when I thought no one was looking, I'd do a couple of spins and maybe work on my moonwalk.

Well at the time, I was taking this french class at the University, and apparently my French teacher was at Costco the same time that I was on one particular dance-happy occassion. I soon found out that I had had an unknowing audience.

The next day in the middle of class she recalls my little performace in her thick frech accent:

Her: "Hey I just remembered. I saw you at Costco yesterday!"
Me: "Oh yea?"
Her: "What in the world were you doing?"
Me: "What do you mean?" (I seriously didn't know what she was talking about)
Her: "I saw you gyrating and then doing some sort of Elvis Dance!" (Starts to demonstrate by doing some crazy cross of air humping, ice skating, and the hokey pokey).
Me: (awkward laugh followed by me thinking "What the hell are you doing!!! Those aren't my moves! And Elvis? ELVIS!?! Those were freaking Michael Jackson moves!")

Suffice to say, having a room full of college students laughing at her god-awful interpretation of my Costco dance moves was not a highlight of my dance history.

I got over it soon, and harnessed this embarassment into further popularity (and possibly embarassment). In eighth grade, all my friends knew that I liked Michael Jackson, and when a mini school talent show came up, I was goaded into signing up to do a performance of Billie Jean. There were no prizes or anything. It was for sheer entertainment.

The show was supposed to be for my "team" (In my middle school everyone was on "teams" of about 150 students each who shared core class teachers). I was the last act and, other teachers having heard about this little show, brought there students in to catch the end, just as school was ending. So now, instead of performing in front of 150 people, it was now more like 300 people. Great.

Well, I ended up getting the crowd into it and definitely being the most entertaining. I mean, you've gotta give props to a Chubby kid who's on stage in front of possibly the meanest age roup of people (Middle school kids) busting some moves right!?! I vividly remember walking through the crowds of people on the way to the bus pickup, getting high fives from random people I didn't know.

The legacy had begun.

Fast forward four years, and I'm a Senior in high school. I was actually moderately popular during my Senior year. Well, turns out there's a lip syncing contest, and immediately everyone I went to middle school with is pushing me to compete.

Honestly, the performance was one of the biggest rushes I've ever had. It was in an auditorium, so I was on stage with special lights programmed and "Billie Jean" blasting over the loud speakers. I came out and saw it was standing room only! 1000+ people in the audience! I came out and the crowd was electric. If that was not good enough, they seriously errupted when I did the moonwalk! I ended up winning second place, and I think the status I gained from that performance got me the "most spirited" senior class superlative.

From then to now, I've had some other moments. Freshman year in college, I did a speech about the history of breakdancing and proceeded to do a little demo with the class. Recently, I also won an impromptu "dance off" at the Shout House. There's two more little stories though.

So there's this upper class club in San Diego called Aubergine in San Diego that I went to with Aaron and Darren a few months ago. On the dance floor area, there's a stage in front with the DJ in the middle and a Go-Go dancer on each side. Well at point during the night, Darren and I noticed the Go-Go dancers were missing. We both looked at each other and new what to do.

Aaron meanwhile was talking to some girl. The conversation ensues as follows:

Girl:"Oh my God! There's two guys dancing up there!"
Aaron:(not looking at the stage) "Two guys?!? What the hell is going on?!? There's not supposed to be guys up there!"
Girl: "Well there are, and they're really rockin out!"
Aaron: (Turning around) Well they need to get off the sta...wait I know those guys!!! That's Arun and Darren!"

I don't know what happened after that, but she must have fallen in love with him by the mere fact that he knew US! I meanwhile was bustin my ass to "Welcome to Jamrock" on one side of the stage, high fiving the DJ.

Late night dancing can get crazy, but clubs and bars aren't the only place for them apparently. Last Friday night at about 2am, me and a big group of friends walk into Hoboken Pizza in Pacific Beach. People are getting rowdy, and the next thing I know, people are dancing on tables! The song changes and they're playing Journey!! (I'm a fan). Me being the type of person who likes to instigate craziness (see Football Fanatics )I hopped up on our table, pulled my some friends up, and started getting down!

To conclude, don't ever be afraid to dance anywhere. I've demonstated it can be done anywhere from a store, to a classroom, to a pizza place. The next time you get the urge, drop what you're doing, and bust a move!

The Handshake

One of the funny things I find myself often pondering, is the daily things we do that we don't put much thought into, but are actually quite complicated when you really think about it. The latest of these random ponderings, is the intricacies of the simple handshake.

I know what your thinking. "Common Arun! Only someone completely incompetant would find a handshake complicated! You're reaching on this one!" Bear with me as I take you into the wonderful world of handshaking etiquette and style!

Before I begin, I feel it necessary to define a few terms that ALL handshakers should be aware of:

Straight: Also known as the handshake grip, this is your "ordinary" handshake grip with your fingers straight ahead and thumb pointing up at roughly a 45 degree angle.

Clutch: This is the "cool" handshake with the fingers extended at a 45 degree angle up in which each shaker grips the "shakees" hand around the thumb region.

Delayed Release: This is generally a secondary addition to a "straight" or "clutch" in which each shaker curls his four fingers around the others four fingers before releasing.

Straight-five: A variation of the popular "high-five" except you go in as if going in for a straight, but instead of squeezing the others hand, you give him friendly hit a la a high five.

Now if your still with me, I've only defined some BASIC positions of handshaking. There are so many more! With all of these variations, its only natural that there'd be some confusion right?

For example, suppose you haven't seen a buddy in a long time. Generally this length of separation might call for a hug, but we all know that this isn't a common practice among guys. In this case, you go for the clutch and then pull in for the chest bump, meanwhile reaching around with your off hand to give a pat on the shoulder.

This however cannot be accomplished if you go in with the "straight" handshake and attempt a pull-in. Do this looks like you're trying to pull in your buddy to whisper sweet nothings in his ear...definite no-no.

My personal favorite is the clutch with a delayed release, followed by the the knuckle-touch. The only problem here is when people leave you hanging on the knuckle touch and you look like an idiot!

The thing is, people are so inconsistant when it comes to doing the knuckle touch as a finisher to a handshake. Its always a gamble and you have to guess one way or another. I can't tell you how many times I've gone in for the knuckle-touch and been left hanging! There I am with my hand balled up in a fist just sticking out there doing nothing! The question then is, do I try to be slick and put the fist away hoping no one saw my knuckle touch get blown off, or do I call the offending party out: "Hey man! Where's my knuckle pound!?!"

As purely a courtesy, I always go in for the knuckle touch as a handshake finisher to save the other party from the embarassment of being "left hanging." Yes, this does result in me being left hanging by those who don't practice the knuckle-touch finisher, but I'd rather it be me, than for for me to be the one causing emabarassment.

One of my favorite variations that I like to do when I'm saying goodbye to girls I've just met (if we haven't established enough of a rapport yet for a hug) is to go for the clutch followed by a delayed release. Now the beauty of the delayed release is that you are now perfectly in "thumb-war" position. So I go right into the thumb war! Guys, you should try this one.

I'm also, with girls, a fan of the high-five. I'm not a big fan of handshakes when meeting girls in a casual setting because generally, girls hands are so small and they usually don't give a real firm shake, so I feel like I'm gonna break there hand. Normal handshakes also feel too formal. So when I don't go for the fancy-schmancy shake, I do the high-five. Somehow high-fives are always fun, especially when you get perfect contact.

Now the crazy fun is when you take these handshake variations, and start using them in places where people wouldn't expect you too. For example, sometimes when I see people I know at work in passing, I'll automatically go up for the high five. Or, if I happen to be introducing myself to like a clerk or barista at a coffee shop, I'll go in for the handshake, but then shift into the clutch with a delayed release (and possibly a knuckle touch if it looks like they know what they're doing). This immediately ups the comfort level beyond what a normal handshake would've done.

So practice up on your handshakes! Knowing the variations can be very handy (get it? "hand"-y). Practice your skills, invent a few of your own (I've got a couple of crazy ones) and share the love! Know your situation and which shake is appropriate for that situation!

Oh the versatility of the everyday handshake!

The Trash Talking Wonder

There's no better feeling than talking a lot of trash, then following it up with the actual goods.

I imagine there would be no worse feeling than talking a lot of trash and following it up with abysmalness. I wouldn't know :)

Yes friends, I will admit that, among my friends, I am a serious trash talker. In fact, I don't even think what I say should be classified as "trash talk." It would be more accurate to call it "Truth."

I'm generally not an instigator since sometimes it's nice to fly under the radar, but the minute someone says anything controversial, I let the bombs fly and no one is safe!

The most recent example that comes to mind is the currently occurring March Madness. I was all set to have a nice, friendly little sweepstakes, but then I caught this little gem in a group email from my friend Aaron who set up our March Madness group.

"FYI
Most likely to win- Aaron
Most likely to lose - Arun"

Oh no he di'int! Nobody gets away with this! It was time for retaliation so I sent out this little gem of "Truth."

"What!?! Most likely to LOSE? Not only do I have a proven track record of kicking YOUR ass, but I have a proven track record of kicking ass in general! My methods are flawless and my teams perform. I was going to make it a close game this year, but now I'm afraid I'm going to have win outright. Good Luck for second place, and if someone wants my advice for picks, I usually charge five bucks per pick, but since you all are friends, I'll drop it to four."

Well we are currently almost halfway through the NCAA tournament and Aaron is holding down the sixth place spot with a vengeance! I meanwhile am situated quietly in first place.

Despite its simplicity, the art of good trash talking, and elevating it to "truth" status is actually quite complex. I'm going to share with you some excerpts from chapter 19 of "Arun's Guide to Lifetime Awesomeness," entitled "From Trash Talk to Truth: Breaking Down the Competition Before the Game Has Even Started."

1. Use historical examples. This should highlight examples of you previously kicking ass. You should then take these examples and make them analogous to major real world events such as Empires conquering Territories or Countries dominating a war.

2. Relay the messages with confidence and an element of "niceness." Saying things in a pseudo-complementary way is a dagger! (ie. "Justin, your tennis skills are amazing! You definitely would be top 5 material in my 'Tennis for Toddlers' class!")

3. Hyperbolize your opponents weaknesses. (ie. "Justin, I've got a couple of Coke bottles that you can maybe tape to your eyes so you can see the ball better")

4. Once the competition is over, discontinue the talk unless provoked. There's no better satisfaction than letting the competition stew in anger over not only losing to you, but knowing that you backed up your talk! Throwing additional jabs is not necessary unless they start up again in which case you now have so much ammo (since you just beat them) that their case is futile!

5. Don't fire barbs at sensitive area's. Making fun of Chubby Checker's weight or Margo Midget's height is too easy and not cool. Nobody likes a meanie.

6. Make fun of the opponents strengths! This totally turns the tables on them and makes the competition putty in your hands! Example: Justin refers to himself as "The Shot Master" for his prowess at being able to take a vast quantity quantity of shots, beyond what any normal man should be able to take. I would use this to my advantage if I were to shoot a verbal arrow his way (ie. "Justin, you're gonna be so tired from getting run around the tennis court, your gonna need those shot taking skills to guzzle back water! Meanwhile, I'll be holding a racquet in one hand and Saltines in the other."

I think I've given you enough tips to make you quite dangerous to engage in a friendly verbal joust! Just remember, "He who backs up trash talk with performance, speaks only Truth!" Good luck!

Wanted by the Mob

Last summer I visited New York City for the first time. I flew up to attend a wedding, but saved a couple days so I that I could go around and see as much as possible.

In two days I saw quite a bit: The United Nations Headquarters, Manhattan Museum of Art, Brooklyn Bridge, Times Squar, the Soupman Kitchen (No Soup for Me!...only because it was closed when I went by) and more. Perhaps the most interesting event of the short trip happened on my first night in NYC.

I was with my Mom and Sister as well as another group of family friends; about eight of us all together. We decided to go to this nice upperscale Italian restaurant. Everything was great! Food was impecable, I was downing cocktails, and we had a cute waitress.

Dinner wrapped up after a while and we headed down the stairs to the bottom floor of the restaurant to leave. As I'm leaving I hear these voices behind me. Then I hear real loud, "HEY! HEY! HEY!!!!"

I turn around as I'm entering the little circular revolving door chamber to leave the restaurant, and see a well dressed Italian guy with a briefcase get bum rushed by one of the waiters! The waiter's yelling at him, runs up and grabs the guy from behind, and throws him face first into and through the adjacent door right next to me!

At this point I'm a little freaked out and suprised by what's going on. My initial thought is this guy with the brief case must have insulted an overly sensitive waiter or something, but I soon learned it must have been more serious.

After throwing him out the door, two more italian waiters come out, pick up the guy, throw him into some patio chairs and hold him down while a third guy starts kicking him! Then, I swear to God, like five more guys come out and are getting involved!

Now normally, being the man that I am, I would have gone in and tried to break the whole thing up. Somehow though, I ended up all the way on the other side of the street as the fight escalated, so by the time I'd get all the way back across, the fight probably wouldn've been resolved, right? Lucky for those guys...

But the scuffle wasn't over! Who then comes jetting out the door but the CHEF! That's right, the Chef! Now's he's getting into it and yelling at the guy, and some other guys are trying to calm the chef down!

Me being safely on the other side of the street at this point decide to whip out my camera to get some of this golden footage. Afterall, its not everyday you get to see an italian mob flex there muscles! Unfortunately, it was too dark to get any decent footage so I wound up with nothing.

As the dispute was winding up, the mob lets up on the briefcase guy and kick him to the curb telling him the get the hell out of there. I'm still trying to get some footage at this point. Then I see someone point in MY direction!

Uh oh...not good.

I didn't want to have beat anybody down on my vacation, so instead as soon as I saw that finger pointing in my direction, I went into stealth mode and dashed into a nearby crowd of pedestrians.

All this on my first night in The Big Apple. Welcome to New York.

Ten Gym Annoyances

After writing my last post about building muscle I got to thinking about my own daily experiences at the gym. The more I thought about it, the more I realized there are quite a few imbeciles working out at the gym.

For any of you who go to the gym with any regularity, you know the types of people I'm talking about. I know this must be hard for you believe since I'm not much of a ranter, but it was actually not very difficult for me to come up with a list of the top ten annoying occurences that go on in gyms everywhere! So, without further adu, I present Arun's "Top Ten Gym Annoyances."

10. Unsolicited Advice - It really drives me nuts when people who think they're fitness experts go around critiqueing your exercise without you even asking. It's one thing if they work at the gym, if you ask for advice, or if you're doing something completely wrong, but when Joe Bob tells me I should totally change up my routine, I'm not too pleased, though I don't let on:

Joe Bob: "Dude you really squat down that low!"
Me: "Oh Ok"
Me Thinking: "Oh great, I've got to listen Joe Bob tell me how to work out for five minutes"
Joe Bob: "Yea Man you'll hurt yourself. And keep your legs closer together"
Me: "Thanks Man"
Me Thinking: "Not only am I not changing anything, but now I'm running behind in my workout"

9. "I don't feel the need to where deoderant-Man." Yes, this is the guy who thinks he smells like roses all day long and doesn't need to deoderize. From a distance, he seems ok, perhaps even pleasant. But, if you happen to enter the "Zone of Death" you're in for a suprise. The worst part is that the smell lingers! If you want to use a machine that "Joe Pits" was using, you've got to leave at least a five minute buffer for the rancid smell to dilute into the air.

Sometimes, Joe Pits will sneak up on you while you're doing a set and work on the bench next you. This is extremely hazardous as you're already breathing hard since you're in the middle of a set and as you take a deep breath to power through the last bit...you realize you've been ambushed by the Zone of Death courtesy of Joe Pits! Set Over.

8. The Premium Locker Room. Interestingly, many gyms have a regular locker, and for those willing to shell out the extra cash, a "premium" locker room. So what's the difference? Well, everything's the same except for one thing. The premium locker room has this little area when you go in, with couches and a TV.

Honestly, who goes to the gym to chill on a couch in the locker room and watch TV?!? The crazy part is, people actually pay for this "upgraded" locker room! At my gym, you actually can't even get in this locker room with a special code!

7. Noise Makers. You all know who I'm talking about. These are the guys who feel the need to let the entire gym know that they are busting there ass and putting up superhuman amounts of weight.

I mean, some grunting is ok, even necessary sometimes, but common! These guys yell out a set, then walk around like they're the Worlds Strongest Man.

6. Form Doesn't Count. I'd say 50-60 percent of people at the gym use poor form. It's usually mostly guys who are trying to put up insane amounts of weight they have no business touching. If you look at the people doing the most weight at the gym, frequently you'll notice they don't look the strongest. That's because they're practically throwing their back swinging the bar up to do bicep curls!

I knew a guy in college like this. He had the gall to come up to me once in the gym and said, "This can't hold me down man!" I'm thinking, " well maybe if you squated down more than two inches you'd realize you're doing doing too much weight when your knees buckle!

5. Cell Phone Users and Book Readers. Seriously, how good of a workout can you be getting if you're on the phone or reading a book during you're exercise. If you can concentrate on a book or have an extended conversation during your exercise, you're not only not working hard enough, but you're wasting your time.

4. Not reracking the weights. I consider myself moderately strong, but when Mike Muscles decideds to leave the 500 lbs of weights he's loaded on the bar, he's not doing me any favors. By the time I remove all the extra weight, I'm already tired! To top it off, I don't want to screw over the person after me, so I am not only cleaning up his mess, but my own as well.

3. Proper fitting clothes. Have you ever noticed that the two groups of people who most often wear poor fitting clothes are the slightly overweight/out of shape, and the REALLY overweight?

The Chubbies somehow seem to think that wearing a shirt three sizes too big will cover up the fact that they are obese. WRONG! Not only do you still appear large, but now you have no style. Wearing bedsheets as clothing may cover some rolls, but they make you look even bigger!

Then there's the guys who think they're in really good shape, but are actually a little pudgy. They wear the ultra tight Under Armor in an attempt to show off their muscles when its blatently obvious that they are not exactly male models.

2. The water bottle fill. After a tough set, a nice refreshing drink of water is always nice. Just hope you don't get stuck behind one of those people with a larger water bottle. I have no problem with people filling their bottles at the fountain, but do you honestly have to fill up to the very edge while people are waiting?

If it's more than half full, can't you step aside for me to get a 3-second sip?

1. The Sweaty Mess. There's nothing worse than getting on a machine recently vacated Sonny Sweats. Yes, he's the guy who marks his territory by sweating on every machine he uses and doesn't clean up. As pleasent as he must think his sweat is, I have enough of my own, thank you very much.

And that is the top ten list of the day. Neurotic? Yes. Over the top? Probably. But a good rant every now and then feels great!

Damn that Short-Term Memory

Anytime I'm out and about, I try to meet as many people as possible. I talk to girls, guys and even the animals. It's something I love to do. There is only one small problem with meeting lots of people in a short amount of time. You forget who you've met and who you haven't.

Take last week for example. After spending all day skiing at Mammoth Mountain, a few of us decide to go out to one of the local bars. While I was there, I took the opportunity to talk to as many people as possible. I met people from all over! LA, San Diego, Denver, New York, Canada...everywhere!

Honestly, I am a man, so naturally much of my conversating may have been with attractive women in the bar. Unless I'm totally drawn to someone, or a group of people, I like to sort of make a "first pass" and meet everyone for a few minutes, then later when I see them again, we chat like old friends.

That is, if I remember meeting them. Note to guys out there: once you've introduced yourself to a girl, try not to introduce yourself to her again! They are generally not too thrilled when you forget. I met a girl from Colorado soon after I got to the bar. About an hour later I bumped into her again, only I wasn't sure if I had met her or not.

We started chatting and when I asked where she was from, she gave me a light slap in the chest and a disgusted look as if I was supposed to remember. As soon as she did that it all came flooding back, but it was too late! She wanted no part of me.

Cross this one off the list.

The thing is, I have a MAJOR disadvantage for remembering a lot of different people in a short period of time. I mean, how many times have you seen a tall Indian guy out and about, doing Michael Jackson moves on the dancefloor and high-fiving people he doesn't know? I feel much more recognizable than John Smith or Joe Johnson.

Yesterday, I almost made a SERIOUS blunder. I was at my favorite coffee shop, The Living Room, reading, when this cute blonde sat at the table in front of me. She was sitting with her back facing me but I had caught a glimpse of her face when she walked in.

As I got up to go talk to her, a guy walks into the coffee shop, and she gets up and gives him a hug. They go to the counter to order coffee, and by the sounds of their conversation, they're on a first date (yes I was eves dropping).

Shucks.

As I go back to reading, I all of a sudden realize that I know this girl! She's this nurse that I met, ironically at a Starbucks, whom I dated a couple of times before letting it die.

Wow. This guy just saved me from some SERIOUS embarrassment. I can't imagine the plethora of scenarios that would have played out had this guy not walked in at just the right time!

I have no doubt that she would've recognized me. In fact, it's pretty ridiculous that I didn't recognize her in right away.

I've come to terms that I just have "one of those faces." Luckily, I haven't met anyone that looks like me (although I do get annoyed when someone says "you look like so-and-so!" I mean, honestly! Does this drive anyone else nuts!?! If anything, so-and-so looks like ME!). If do ever find my twin though, I'll have to start some kind of magic act.

Arun versus The Mountain

Growing up in Alaska, it would be logical for one to think that I'm a real winter sports kind of guy. One might even assume that I am an avid skier who can carve his way down any mountain, big or small! After all, mountains were practically my backyard in Alaska.

One would be completely wrong.

It's not that I've never skied or anything. In fact, when I was a little kid, I took skiing and figure skating (yea yea, laugh it up) lessons. The problem is, that I haven't skied in probably 12 years.

So what did I decide to do? Well it only seemed logical that the best way to jump back into skiing was to tackle the biggest ski mountain in California. Mammoth definitely lives up to its name.

Saturday was clear and beautiful. It all came back to me pretty fast, and before long, I was carving my way down the bunny slopes! All was good until I encountered my first black diamond of the weekend.

My history with black diamonds is sketchy at best. The last time I went skiing, I took a black diamond at the bottom of the hill. I didn't really know how to carve at the time, so I'd pretty much just barrel my way down the hill.

So picture this. I'm flying down the hill, gathering speed with this big smile on my face. I enter the black diamond and now I'm really flying! "Whooo hooo!" As I finish the black diamond it suddenly occurs to me that I'm at the bottom of the hill, moving at an out-of-control speed. Then I realize that one of the skills that I'm not particularly proficient at is the art of stopping.

Crap.

So here I am flying towards the ski rack in front of the lodge at the bottom of the hill. In my desperation to stop, I decide that falling is the only way to avoid colliding with the ski rack. In my haste, I fall backwards.

Let me explain to you why this was a bad idea. When you fall backwards with skis on, your back and head hit the ground, but because the skis are so long, your legs remain planted in the skis on the ground and you continue rocketing forward with your back and head absorbing the comfy terrain.

I managed to hit a mound of snow that sent me spinning, skis and poles flying off of me and I came to rest just in front of the ski rack. It would have been less painful to have just collided with the rack.

So on Saturday, I put this little incident out of my mind and start heading down. I'm carving really hard and am moderately controlling my speed. Yes! I own this black diamond!

About half way down I recall my previous incident and trying to carve a little harder to slow down. In doing this I lost my balance. I knew I was going to eat it, the only question was in which direction? Again remembering how pleasant it felt to fall backwards I, for reasons I will never understand, decide to fall forward.

Note to self...forward fall = high faceplant probability.

Yes I faceplanted, and to make things things worse, since the hill was so steep, I kept going with my heading leading the way down the hill.

Other than that incident, the day was pretty good, and I was superbly confident in my skills for Sunday! Well, Sunday brought one of the worst blizzards I've ever been in. More than half of the mountain was closed due to high winds and blizzard conditions.

Me being supremely confident in my near-professional level skiing abilities, I took the highest lift that was open. I could hardly move at the top. It was so windy that I had to anchor my poles into the ground to keep from getting blown around. Not to mention, it was FREAKING COLD up there!

Now I just wanted to get the hell down...not as easy as it sounds. It was total white-out conditions. Going down the mountain, all I could see was white. I couldn't tell up from down or right from left. I couldn't see five feet in front of me and had no clue how fast I was going.

At one point, I felt a bunch of snow hitting my face and thought I was just skiing really fast. It turned out I was falling, but I was so disoriented I had no idea. I managed to make it down the hill, and promptly decided that was enough for the day.

Success! I escaped the mountain without injury and only above average amounts of embarrassment! I OWN skiing!

The "Do Not Touch" List

I'm a fun-loving super social guy who loves giving high fives and making up new crazy handshakes with all of my friends. I am also well aware that people's hands carry more germs than almost anything else you can touch.

In general, I don't mind being exposed to moderate amounts of foreign germs. It seems logical that the more germs I am exposed to, the stronger my immune system will become as it adapts to each foreign particle introduced into my system. I hardly ever get sick, so this must be true to some extent right?

There is one exception to my germ exposure though. Anything coming from a bathroom is not welcome anywhere near me! I (as should any sensible person) have a tremendous aversion to anything emanating from the bathroom. As a result, one of my biggest pet peeves are the lazy sicko's who don't wash there hands after going to the bathroom!

DISGUSTING!

My aversion to this has resulted in my personal "Do Not Touch" list. That's right. If I am in the bathroom and catch you exiting without a wash, you are automatically flagged on my mental list. In fact, once you're on this list, it's virtually impossible to get off this list for a few reasons.

1) If you are already a friend, you're automatically dropped at least two tiers by virtue of you're laziness for hygiene.
2) You are definitely not coming over to my house with the potential of contaminating my sterile possessions.
3) I'm not coming to your place knowing that everything I'm touching has potential remnants from your Johnson.
4) I don't make a habit of going to the bathroom in herds (a la every female I know) so I don't know if your lack of awareness is a one time slip or a repeated offense.

Bottom line, you will not be getting any type of a handshake or high five from me. I know what you're thinking. "But Arun, what if Joe Dirtyhands approaches with an open hand to give me a handshake or a high five? Am I just supposed to make things awkward by blowing off his attempt to be friendly???"

Don't worry, I have a solution to this dreaded situation! This is where we get to enjoy the glorious invention known as the "Knuckle Touch!" The knuckle touch is awesome because not only are you being hip AND friendly, but you are avoiding the highly contaminated finger/palm area! When they come at you with an open hand, just counter with a closed fist and they'll automatically go in for a friendly knuckle touch.

Disaster Averted!!!

A Couple of other gross bathroom observations:

Observation 1:

Why is it that guys have absolutely NO aim in public toilets? I mean, if you go in there on a busy night, its like a war zone in there with urine all over the floor and toilet seat.

I find myself peeing with my feet in like a karate stance positioned on the only two dry spots on the floor! When finished, I carefully balance on one foot, and judo kick the handle to flush. This is tricky because you have to judo kick around the raised seat (if it is indeed raised, because if it's not, there's no way I'm touching that seat to raise it) and balance on your one foot on the ground. Slipping is not an option!!!

Observation 2:

About a month ago a friend and I stopped by my favorite Irish Pub in San Diego, The Field, for a beer. I had to go to the bathroom pretty bad, and the guys was full, so I snuck into the girls bathroom which consisted of two stalls.

It became immediately clear when I was inside pissing away that I had company in the stall next to me. I had always wondered whether girls are capable of making the violent sounds I have heard in men's bathrooms. Well she answered this question for me with a resounding (and I mean RESOUNDING) yes! Without going into the disgusting details, she was absolutely DESTROYING the poor toilet next to me.

So I'm standing there peeing away and I realize that by the sound of the stream hitting the water, its pretty obvious that a guy is in the stall next to her. So, to preserve any embarrassment for her (and me) I frantically re-aim my stream so that it banks off the porcelain right above the water line, thus disguising the telling sound of male urination.

As I'm wrapping up, I notice that she is also by the sounds of the miles of toilet paper shes pulling off the dispenser. I REALLY don't want to see whoever this is or have any type encounter, so I'm trying as hard as I can to squeeze out the last few drops and get the hell out of there.

I run out of the stall, but there's no way I'm leaving without washing my hands. As I'm washing, I hear a flush. Time is running out, and there's no time for drying! I dash for the door, and just as I'm about to open it, it flies open as two girls are entering. The first girl exclaims "WHOA!!! Isn't this the GIRLS bathroom!"

Simultaneously, I here the stall door which my noisy neighbor was in, open and she gives a incredulous, "HUH!?!?!" Without looking back, I ran the hell out of not only the bathroom, but the bar as well. There was no way I was going to risk bumping into that girl.

After the battle that was going down with her porcelain throne, she better have washed her hands. Either way, she's still solidly on the "Do Not Touch" List.