The We-Bomb and Need Your Help

The We-Bomb

I would define my current state as single and semi-looking. Therefore, when I meet someone new, I can always jump ahead and begin imagining our future together. I know, I know…crayyyyyzeeeee. However, anyways, today I met a Mark Ruffalo lookalike who I thought was cute until he started using what I like to call the we-bomb.

Boys and girls use the we-bomb differently. When a girl uses the we-bomb she could be referring to anyone – her boyfriend, her roommate, her co-worker, her girlfriend. Girls require no pretext when using the we-bomb. In any story, she’ll drop in a we-bomb and no one thinks twice.

When a boy uses the we-bomb he is only referring to his significant other. Otherwise, he will say my roommate and I, my boy and I, or what have you. I believe this stems from the subconscious desire to let the opposite party know that he is indeed single…and ready to mingle if you will.

Would you Read This Book?

Among the following two opening paragraphs, I need genuine feedback on which one piques your interest more. Thanks in advance – I’ll thank you in my Pulitzer Prize Speech. And if Pulitzer Prize winners don’t give speeches – f* that, I’ll start the trend.

1. ) I sat in my car, in the grocery store parking lot across the street from my office building, listening to the 80s lunch hour with DJ Donny B on the radio. With the air conditioner blasting away to keep the South Florida heat at bay, I ate my sandwich and sang silently to “I Think We’re Alone Now.”

I sat contemplating the building just across the way, an inconspicuous bank building that unbeknownst to all passers-by, housed what I had nicknamed “Hell on Earth,” the public relations firm of O’Shanahan and Goldsmith.

O’Shanahan and Goldsmith had been my professional home for just about seven months. My first job out of college and where I did public relations for hospitals and lawyers. It was a far cry from the glamorous job I pictured when I was in school. I had imagined velvet ropes, parties, lunches with reporters and general fabulousness. Instead, I toiled away in a 8 X 10 office with some of worst human beings ever placed on planet Earth.

2.) The alarm rang with its brain-splitting shriek directly into my left ear at approximately 6:47 a.m. on Monday, May 3, 2003. I bolted upright out of my semi-asleep state and hit the off button. Today was my first day of work. The beginning of my Career. The day that all my schooling, professional development, after-school and intramural activities, careful grooming and endless studying, culminated into my becoming a Successful Person, one on the very short path to millionairehood.

I was incredibly scared and wished I was back in college. I’m sorry to admit it, but that indeed was my first thought on the first day of my Career.

I would have given my left arm for just one more day of weekend. I say left and not right because I don’t rely on my left arm nearly as much as I rely on my right arm. I wasn’t so desperate that I would have given my right arm. Anyways, I would have given my left arm for one more day to postpone the inevitable, the day I officially became an adult. The day where I could literally watch my responsibility-free life disappear before my very eyes. If the Devil had appeared with a hacksaw for my arm and the offer to turn back time I most definitely would have accepted his offer. I waited for a few moments to see if Lucifer felt like making an appearance, and when he did not, I got out of bed to brush my teeth.