Tag Archives: yuppie dilemma

tyd.com presents: 5 people who actually have “haters” (Spoiler: you are not one of them)

Since when do so many normal, middle-wage earning Americans believe they have “haters?”  More importantly, what do we have to do to get them to stop claiming such foolishness all over everyone’s social network feeds?  Did a bunch of people with a laundry list of mostly unknown achievements instantly become so important that the entire WORLD viciously turned on them?  If this were actually the case, then we would applaud them for their confidence in the face of adversity. However…

We here at the yuppie dilemma decided that we could no longer stand around and allow this trend to continue without some constructive commentary.  Contrary to unpopular belief, haters DO exist.  It’s just that YOU just don’t happen have any, that’s all.  This is not to say that most members of society like or support you.  That’s probably not true either.  They are simply just indifferent towards you.  The truth is, you probably haven’t accomplished anything notable enough to warrant anyone praying for your downfall.

eh-eh-eh-EH!  Hold on.  Just relax, because I can hear you sucking your teeth, shaking your head, and mumbling, “hater,” under your breath in your best hoodrat voice already.  You may find yourself feeling differently by the end of this.  You may even find you feeling more loved than ever!  Little do you know, while you’re worrying about who doesn’t want you to do well on your law exam or who is jealous you got that $1.75 raise before them, there are people out there who are actually hated by…you guessed it…haters.

Note: if reading this list and any of its descriptions elicits emotions of anger and disgust, frowns, and/or burning sensations in the chest region, you may in fact be a hater yourself.

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tyd guide to passive aggressive workplace terrorism

I discovered early on in my tenure as Editor-in-cheif of The Yuppie Dilemma that, if I wanted the most traffic, the best time to publish articles is in the middle of the workday.  Contrary to unpopular belief, and despite the decoy spreadsheet you have pulled up on your dual-monitor setup, the time you spend at your computer before lunch break is NOT the most productive 30 minutes of the day.  However, here at the dilemma we understand the importance of fake productivity.  You deal with a lot of tomfoolery on a daily basis.  A lot of “BitchAssNess” if you will.  Unfortunately, we also understand that there’s not much you can do to combat it.

Somewhere back in the olden days, the heathen gods of white collars, 401k’s, and annual performance reviews were sitting on Mt. Human Resources and decided they needed to establish a code of conduct to govern the behavior of mortals in an attempt to curb the savage-like activities that were a normal occurrence the workplace.  Over 3,000 years later, man has come up with its own subtle, yet crafty, ways to circumvent the laws of the old gods and the struggle persists.  Without a Babylonian law à la Hammurabi, most of you would return to your lives as victims after lunch due to the malicious BitchAssNess that as overcome workplace culture.  Fortunately we here at the dilemma are here to assist you…at least in identifying what makes you a victim.

The False Confirmation

The false confirmation tactic is a vintage display of BitchAssNess that evolved into the norm of electronic communication long ago.  A favorite of middle management, the false confirmation is an attempt to coerce an off guard  coworker into confirming an act or piece of information they had no prior knowledge of.  It goes something like this:

(via Email) Manager Chuck who probably drives a Saab: Hey Mike, I was just confirming that you are able to attend the 7AM conference call this Saturday (tomorrow).  I have a golf outing that day and I won’t be able to make it.  Make sure you have the PowerPoint presentation proofread and ready

Mike: [Checks calendar.  Sees nothing]… [Glances at email inbox. Sees nothing]…[Checks email history from last 3 months.  Finds nothing]… [Concludes this was Chuck's bitch ass way of asking him to do it on such short notice] Yeah sure Chuck.  No problem.  I’ll start working on the presentation now…I guess.

News flash: YOU CAN’T CONFIRM SOMETHING THAT WAS NEVER BROUGHT TO MY ATTENTION IN THE FIRST PLACE.  This is a move that would never be appropriate in other contexts in life.  How would you sound if you called a chick and said, “Hi Katie, I’m just confirming that we’ll be going to see a movie tomorrow night,” but your slithery ass never asked her on a date to begin with?  The only thing she would confirm is that if you showed up to her apartment to pick her up, the police will be there waiting to arrest you.

The Thread Hijacker

Proper use of a listerve is etiquette  that should probably be learned around the same time little boys are taught that you don’t have to pull your pants down to your ankles to use a urinal.  However, right after Eve and Adam ate the apple, it seems they went right to their Macbook Airs to figure out how they could ruin Email for everyone by leeching off of listserves.

It’s widely known that 99.9% of emails sent to a group usually contain a recipient who doesn’t belong there but was CC’d “just in case.”  This is no different in the workplace.  The Listserve Leech sees an email about a very specific topic and uses it as a springboard to ask a question or make a request to the chain about something completely unrelated and usually unimportant.  The usual suspects tend to be the sales team of any given company, but the perky office dweller is also equally as capable of this insurgent-like behavior.

Most email clients are equipped with a Compose New Message button that is readily accessible from any page, but this does not matter to The Thread Hijacker.  They simply don’t have time to create a new email with its own separate subject line and send it out.  I mean, what better time to ask if anyone ate your yogurt that was in the company fridge for two weeks than when folks are talking about strategy for the next quarter?  The good news is that with Whitey Bulger caught, the FBI should have plenty of time on their hands to bring these felons to justice.

Deadbeat Keurig Abusers

So…you make a cup of coffee, you add your cream, sugar and and whatever else you put in it, but then you can’t take the two second to take the empty Keurig pod out of the goddamn coffee maker?  What breed of wild dogs raised you?  You probably don’t care to remember to flush the toilet after you poop, do you?  As a matter of fact, don’t answer that.

Violent Provocation by Means of Excessive use of Punctuation

I wake up everyday, thank God I’m alive to see another day and then I sit in bed and wonder why people who do this are allowed to vote or live on the same block as children without the county sending out a letter to the neighborhood residents.  At what point does one conclude that its appropriate to ask use multiple “?” or “!” when asking a question or voicing how they feel?  It’s scary, but being on the receiving end of such behavior could turn even Tim Tebow into a hellish demon.

Receive an email asking a question that has a platoon of question marks at the end of it and tell me your blood doesn’t instantly begin to boil.  You think they eScreamed at you by accident?  Nah yo.  Just think: their brain’s neurons had to fire off instructions to either rapidly press that “?” key or not let up on it unless their finger cramped.  It’s no accident.  You find yourself wishing a motherf*cker would write that message in all caps just so you could reach through your ethernet connection and choke them into submission.  What was going on on Mt. Human Resources when they let that one slip by?

There’s gotta be some examples I missed.  How are you terrorized at work in ways that don’t violate your company’s policy?  Join me in the comment section…

-Millsy

the bathroom dilemma

For most yuppies, it’s a topic rarely discussed comfortably outside of the walls of their own apartment.  For others, it’s a ritual so sacred even their roommate can’t know the entire truth of what goes on behind those polyester and vinyl curtains of mystery.

We’re talking about bathroom routines; most their truths but all of their deceptions.

Some of you are asking yourselves, “What’s so important about what I do when I’m in the bathroom.”  The short answer: everything.  But we don’t maintain write this publication to give you the short answer, now do we?  The average American spends over a year and a half of their life in the bathroom and even more time and effort concealing what goes on in there.  You will be shocked when we tell you why.  The Yuppie Dilemma takes you inside the dark world of daily bathroom routines, what they can tell you about a person, and how to protect yourself from falling into a routine that will ensure that you never find true love or get a promotion at work.  Here we will break down some of the most common behaviors seen in the water closet with detailed insight on the psyche behind these actions.

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land of ladies

As you sit at your desk with a runny nose you now realize that not bringing a sweater when you went out this weekend was a rookie move.  You’re going to have to start turning the thermostat on in your apartment pretty soon and you know it.  It probably also dawned on a few of you that fling season began winding down a few weeks ago.  Unless you act now, come November you’ll either be sleeping in socks or waking up with freezing toes in a bed that’s half cold and untouched.  How will you plan accordingly to avoid such calamity?

Fellas, here’s what I’m going to do for you (see below)

Trust me on this.  Play this song every single day for the next week and watch how much brighter your aura glows.  Neither Millsy or The Brothers Johnson would misguide you on this one.  Fun Fact: Quincy Jones put on a Bengal tiger skin apron, went into his cupboard of flare and sprinkled craft powder all over this goddamn song.  He produced this song specifically for you to get your Leon Phelps on.

The patio at Tia’s is closed for the season.  Invite her over on Friday instead for a relaxed night of forgetting about the yuppie dilemmas of the work week.  Give her a glass of chilled prosecco with the St. Germain as you wait for the pad thai to get there and put this on in the background.  Watch the magic unfold right in front of your eyes.

Let me know how it goes in the comment section.

-Millsy

how to judge a yuppie by his shoes

If I ever need a visual in order to gauge how much of a yuppie I’ve become, I can look no farther than my current shoe collection.  It isn’t what it always was.  Once upon a time in a magical kingdom known as college, I had an extensive collection of athletic shoes; most of which would never see athletic activity, all of which triggered arguments if stepped on or scuffed.  Dozens and dozens of pairs of Nikes, all in their respective boxes, were stacked neatly in my closet for admiration by the girls I would invite back to my room.  Of course, none of them ever quite had a spare a shit to lend about how many sneakers I had in my dorm room.  By senior year I had realized I was more likely to work a desk job than be a rapper and I gave most of them away.

These are some of the shoes I own today.  I think I’ve come a long way.  A few of my favorites are missing, but whatever.

-Millsy

tyd.com presents: BBC 101: black boyfriends through film

Oscar Wilde once wrote, “Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life.”  So when you find your own life imitating art, what do you do?  I’m sure most of you would respond with, “it depends on the art.”

The life and times of black boyfriends throughout history has manifested itself through the art of film on numerous occasions.  And just like partners in a relationship, all films are not created equal*.  Now normally, you would be on your own to sort through these various artistic representations of interracial relationships but not this time.  Miranda Hobbes didn’t waltz in on Dr. Leeds knee deep into a ménage à trois just for me sit here, turn a blind eye, and allow you all fall terminally ill from jungle fever.  In this installment of The Black Boyfriend Chronicles I will outline some noteworthy films in black boyfriend history, while pointing out some key lessons and themes.  Grab your popcorn folks.

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the “knowing when to shut the funk up” dilemma

My favorite thing about noise-cancelling headphones is that you don’t ever have to be apologetic when someone tries desperately to grab your attention and fails.  This is precisely why I make sure to pack them in my briefcase everyday before I go to work.  Last week, a gentle tap on the shoulder unplugged me from the Spotify Matrix and I was greeted with the frustrated face of a co-worker who had been trying to ask me a question for the last two minutes.  I casually slipped off my Audio-Technica’s to answer, but what I got was not the question I was expecting.

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just plain iRresponsible

The other day I came to the conclusion that there isn’t a spec of a chance that our generation could ever be more irresponsible than the generation before us.  It isn’t within the realm of possibility.  Let me explain to you how I arrived at this conclusion.

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the “who owns the road?” dilemma

Disclaimer: this is 100% an angry rant. If you yourself become angered or are not entertained by angry rants, please click the X in the upper right hand corner of your web browser

While I was joyfully frolicking through the social media gated community of Google+, enjoying the lack of requests to join Casinoville Facebook games and the absence of friends who’ve contracted viruses by innocently clicking on links to see videos of women orgasming on roller coasters, an interesting op-ed column from Boston.com skated across my News Feed Stream.

Some of you may have heard that, after years of planning and push-back, Boston is ready to launch a bike sharing system.  This is easily the most ambitious part of a much larger initiative Mumbles has been leading for the past few years to make Boston a much more bike-friendly city.  In the time I’ve lived in The Bean, miles of bike lanes and paths have been added and hundreds of bike racks have popped up throughout the city, which I for one think is a great thing as a cyclist.  Bikes are green, give great exercise yaddayaddayadda-I’m-a-yuppie-bikes-are-cool-blahblahblah.  But Brian McGrory seems to disagree He’s just sick and tired of “cavalier cyclists,” and because Boston is a city “with narrow streets, daring pedestrians, and delivery trucks double-parked nearly everywhere,” this simply isn’t a place where bikers belong.  Well, like we always do about this time here at tyd…

You see, what Brian left out in his tender description of the mean Boston streets are the thousands of people WHO HAVE NO CLUE HOW TO DRIVE.  Really Brian?  Did you honestly and sincerely flex your ten fingers and let them electric slide across your keyboard to type a column in the Boston Globe defending the rights of a city of people without the slightest inkling on how to act behind the wheel of a 2-ton vehicle? Puh-leeeez say you didn’t, because that would mean one of two things, or both :

  1. You’re nothing more than the average comment section troll who happens to write for a publication slightly more legitimate than this WordPress blog.
  2. You don’t actually live in Boston.

This isn’t opinion folks.  You don’t have to have had your mirror knocked off or almost been mowed down in a crosswalk to know this is stone cold fact.  It’s actually been statistically proven that the people of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts have the  driving IQ of a group of drunk toddlers.  GMAC Insurance has become known for their National Drivers Test, a yearly survey that assesses how knowledgeable drivers are of traffic laws by state, and this year MA was 5th to last (and quite frankly haven’t been much better in past years).  Yo…do you know how dumb and irresponsible you have to be to drive worse than all the grandparents in the state of Florida??  LOL there are probably more TAXI CABS in NYC than there are drivers in Boston, and NY still ranked higher than MA.  Absolutely incredible.  And trust that this is no secret to the rest of the free world.  When I went to register my scooter they forced me to turn in my beloved and highly bendable New York driver’s license for a Massachusetts flavored one and it was one of the worst days in my transportation life.  You people must know you have a reputation for driving to the grocery store as if you’re goddamn Jason Bourne and you’re being chased by the government, right?  I’ve personally done nothing to contribute to this, but anytime I’m in another state and I’m forced to remove it from the card case in my pocket to prove that I’m in fact old enough to purchase the expensive beer that I tend to drink, I wear this state’s license like a scarlet letter.

The “Masshole Driver” stereotype was probably not borne out of a legion of cavalier cyclists, pedaling erratically on the wrong side of the road, while Brian McGrory and the rest of the Boston Mario Kart circuit desperately attempt to drive responsibly and obey all traffic laws.  And since I’m absolutely not above fighting dirty, Brian, are you aware of where Boston ranks against the rest of the Union in deaths related to DUI accidents?  Oh.

What really pisses me off about Brian’s article though is his Zionist attitude about the streets themselves.  Yes, Brian would just like to exercise his God-given government-sanctioned right to sit behind the wheel of a combustion-powered vehicle and drive on roads that were built for, yes, cars.  Again Brian, GTFOHWTBS comrade.  I may not own or even operate a car on a frequent basis, but I pay taxes that help maintain this city’s godawful roads just like you, b.  If I want to ride a damn unicycle on the shoulder of the road whilst conversing with my favorite Aunt on my cell phone (which, mightt I add, still  isn’t illegal in MA), you bet I’m going to exercise my same government-sanctioned right to do so, you little baby.  If that upsets you, then by all means, please pay my portion of the taxes and I will stay out of your way. Clearly, since you believe that reckless cyclists getting “carted away in the backseats of squad cars,” (just for the irony, of course) is a great allocation of government resources, you don’t have enough taxes to pay anyway.

Look, I’m not saying that not all cyclists are responsible patrons of the urban roadways.  I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t wait at red lights like cars do.  But it’s not because I’m a pompous cyclist who thinks they can do whatever they want; I’m trying to give myself as much time as possible to get away from the thousands of clowns who go 60mph on cruise control in the middle of the goddamn city and who haven’t touched a turn signal since Clinton got fluffed in the Oval Office by a brunette intern.   All I’m saying is that I’m not so privy to getting cut by broken shards from your glass SUV as you’re chucking rocks, bro.  I’d sooner sign Casey Anthony to a multi-million dollar lifetime babysitting deal for my unborn child then let a Massachusetts driver lecture me on responsible navigation of the roads.  If you want to make first strides with me, get out of the bike lane.  So while you’re staring at those GMAC rankings, I’ll echo you in your NRA-inspired assertion that no, cars are not the problem, it’s the people driving them.

-Millsy F.

the dream brother Martin never had

I’m on my way to work, taking public transportation like the man of the people I am, when a fairly attractive woman enters the same subway car and stands right next to me. Not a bad way to start the morning, right?  Until this happens:

For the record, the sound wasn’t even the worst part.  Lesson here is: when it comes to attraction, smell is a powerful sense.  Some may argue, but I personally put it up there with sight.  For the nonbelievers, think back to how many times you’ve been stopped in your tracks because you smelled the perfume/cologne of a past lover years after…and perhaps far, far away from the last time you encountered them in person?  Truth is, once someone is associated with a certain scent in your mind, there’s no separation. Um, you remember when Jake let his ponytail hook up with the pterodactyl looking thing in Avatar?  Yeah, scent is basically just the same thing.  Whether positive or negative, that fragrance you give off is never wearing off in their mind and subconscious.

So in 2011, why on God’s green earth are there still women slithering through society wearing Gap Dream body spray???

You can be honest here my friends, many of you have encountered this tragedy as well.  Just the other day I was out on the town when my nostrils caught that familiar whiff of Gap Dream‘s Deferred from a female about my same age.  Without a single word exchanged between the two of us, I knew right then and there that this was a girl whose aura was in disarray.  A girl who did not give an airborne iota of shit about life goals or what car she was going to drunkely pee behind later on that evening.  She would probably steal the change from under your couch cushion and likely covers her body in glitter before she exits her home for a night out.  Rather than build up enough courage to illuminate the path that her dilemma was leading her down, I simply said a Hail Mary to myself and went about my business.

Now let’s be clear here. 10-12 years ago, Gap Dream was definitely the silver cloud that some of you surfed on when your fragrance game was in early development.  There’s nothing wrong with that!   There was nothing more prosperous than leaning over in algebra to borrow that No. 2 pencil from the girl who sat next to you and breathing in the sweet, chemical aroma of Gap Dream body spray and bubble gum flavored lip gloss.  But I ask, why today?  Why now?  Why bear a scent that conjures of memories of Middle School dances and letting perverted boys like me get to 2nd base in 9th grade?  Do we not have a black president and iPad 2′s?  Nah yo, we’ve come too far for any tax paying citizen to innocently get caught in some fragrant fallout of Gap Dream in the wild on a peaceful day.  I ask, what did we do wrong as a society to lead you astray?

The problem isn’t limited to deluded women in their mid 20′s though.  Just this past weekend, I saw some of our founding mothers knee deep in pain & struggle in the Gap Dream fragrance section.  Of course, I was crafty enough to capture photo documentation

And again, like the coward I am, I sat there and watched them douse themselves in the aromatic sins of their granddaughters and didn’t say a damn thing.

I…no…WE…as a yuppie dilemma community and family want to help you.  Please, as tempting as it may seem, next time you fall into the Gap don’t visit the fragrance section.  Check out the new yoga clothes section or something, I hear that’s cool.  Just stay away from the body spray.  We really do care about you and want to help you be delivered from as much evil as we can.  You have a choice (Remember, there’s always Cool Water for women and anything Liz Claiborne puts out).  But when it comes to Gap Dream, just.  Say.  No.

-MillsyF.