santa barbara trip, part 2: the worst person in the world

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Within hours of arriving in Santa Barbara, Michele, Kristen and I met diminutive engineer named John. As we soon learned, John is The Worst Person In The World. In my life and work, I have encountered murderers, rapists, creationist hecklers at dinosaur lectures, child molesters, and this one douchebag stockbroker who I met at Kate O'Brien's after a holiday party, and it is with no hesitation that I deem this guy the worst ever. My younger sisters used to call Docta V "Bestie" back in high school, to indicate how they liked him more than any of my other friends. Engineer John would have been dubbed "Worstie" within seconds.

Snapshot 1: At dinner, I order steak, while Worstie orders Hawaiian pizza. He is very confident about his order, because he feels the pizza will allow him to drink more, by absorbing alcohol for him. "It's all about the carbs", he confides. Pointing at my mashed potatoes, he scoffs, "You aren't gonna get anything from that. This crust? Enriched. Wheat. Flour."

Snapshot 2: The pizza arrives, and Worstie can't stop talking about how greasy the pizza is, or how good my steak looks. "If there weren't ladies here, I'd take a stack of napkins to this damn pizza", Worstie says. The presence of "ladies" does not prevent him from launching into a long story about why he hates it when people call him while they're using the bathroom.

Snapshot 3: Worstie requests napkins from our server. When she brings them to the table, she makes a joke about how she hopes we aren't making a mess. Perhaps she assumed he wouldn't be using the napkins for grease-sopping with ladies present. For whatever reason, this makes Worstie upset. "Did you hear that? I'm gonna ask for coloring books. She thinks we're babies? I'm gonna ask if they have coloring books. And crayons."
I don't know what to say. "OK", I reply.
"Do you think this place has crayons? I bet they do. I'm gonna ask."
"I don't think they have crayons."
"I'm totally gonna ask. Man, I should have ordered steak."

Snapshot 4: Worstie continues to eyeball my steak. Finally I cut off a chunk and hand it to him, to shut him up. This only shifts his focus to how soft and fatty the steak is, and how he can barely eat it. Worstie then tries to offer slices of pizza to other people at our table. "This pizza is gross. Anyone want a slice? Come on, take a slice."

Snapshot 5: The restaurant doesn't have crayons. Worstie's "joke" falls flat, but he's still pretty proud of himself. "I told you I was gonna ask!" he triumphantly declares. He goes on to explain how he's only rude to wait staff while traveling. Back home in Orange County, he "basically almost always tips 20%."

Snapshot 6: On the way to the bar, Worstie explains his job, which Kristen has declared "boring". She asks him to make up something more interesting than his actual job, working for a defense contractor. Instead, he tells us why it's totally justified that Raytheon charges the government $10 per screw.

Snapshot 7: Kristen suggests imaginary jobs for Worstie, so he doesn't have to say "procurement of death machines and death machine components". He doesn't like the suggestion of "ear model", but the idea of working as a tailor at Nordstrom's gets him extremely offended. "I don't work at Nordstrom's!" Worstie shouts. "I shop at Nordstrom's." As evidence, he points to his ensemble.

Snapshot 8: A woman in the bar thinks Worstie is too young to drink (because he's about 5'4" and baby-faced). When she asks him to guess her age, he says, "34". This guess, or maybe just Worstie's personality, causes the woman to leave, taking her two friends with her.

Snapshot 9: An impromptu lecture about why women shouldn't ask you their age if they're just going to get offended segues into a monologue about how many full-size beds and futons are in Worstie's townhouse. Each room has a full-size bed and a full-size futon, though they are unoccupied most of the time. I think we are supposed to be impressed at their wealth of futons, and that Worstie's landlord comes down and does shots with him, even though he's in his 40's. Three times, Worstie tells us how much his rent is.

Why full-size beds? Worstie explains it's because he's not very tall. And, if a girl is too big to share a full-size bed with him, then she is too big to date. "Like how stewardesses used to have to get on a scale and make weight before they were allowed to fly," Kristen adds. "Exactly. Exactly! If she's too big, she's out," says Worstie, jerking his thumb like an umpire ejecting an argumentative player.

Snapshot 10: After kissing Worstie for roughly fifteen seconds, a girl has to run to the bathroom and throw up. Let this be a lesson, residents of Orange County: Kissing Worstie will make you vomit.

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How did you manage to force yourself into an entire evening of this? Is this one of Nuala's friends?

friend of a friend of a friend of nuala's.

sean, you are my hero.

"girl", i'm sorry.

haha...this post is hilarious. one particular part gave me pause for thought:

"...murderers, rapists, creationist hecklers at dinosaur lectures, child molesters, and this one douchebag stockbroker who I met at Kate O'Brien's after a holiday party"

I totally remember that douchebag from Kate O'Brien's. That guy was terrible. Good thing I was so wasted on free tequila or I might have been more irritated.

what really makes me crazy is that we didn't immediately jump in with the lie. i mean it was entirely clear from the very beginning that this guy was worstie. i have already proved that i can be a complete dick when my adversary is stupid enough. so what stopped me now? even if i couldn't come up with a suitably mocking lie, couldn't i at least have spilled a drink on him?

A perfect ending to this story would be if when the check came, Worstie claimed that he couldn't contribute because "All I have are these gold bars and bags of precious gems."

he did actually loudly berate his friend for not pitching in more on behalf of the friend's girlfriend. then when he thought no one was looking he took a few dollars of his own back out.

i'm pretty sure i'm not making that up, but even if i am, sean already ruined his rep anyway.

I've never laughed so hard in my entire life after reading this. I'm sorry that you were all subjected to this boy. We will blame Courtney's new boy for this. I didn't invite him certainly and will run in fear next time he is anywhere near Santa Barbara County

but actually we all quite liked courtney's new boy, and courtney. (i especially liked her after sneakily having a conversation about you, so i could work out whether she was friending you as you deserve. conclusion: she adores you, so she is ok in my book.) i dunno why c's boy has such a lame friend. possibly he hasn't heard the futon story, aka the most boring story in the world.

hee hee...maybe. C's boy is a good guy but now I will have to avoid them all whenever worstie is in town. Oh well.

I totally sent this post to C and she thought it was the funniest thing ever. I'm glad you approve of Ms. C. She is a good friend.

PS what did you and Ms. C talk about in regards to me? I am so nosy

she was telling me how beautiful you are and how all the boys are after you and you don't even know it, and also she was saying what a good person you are. all of which i agreed with.

sean, i am sorry this has become a forum for sappy girl love. if you want i can return to the phone-calls-from-the-bathroom discussion.

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This page contains a single entry by Sean Keane published on February 23, 2006 10:12 PM.

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