So I had the opportunity to listen in on an awesome conversation while waiting to check out of Trader Joe’s. If you’re not familiar with Trader Joe’s, it’s a hippy-run version of Whole Foods. I only go there to buy cheap-yet-super-delicious wine and gummy candies, but I try to avoid making those trips whenever I can because the cashiers are slow. And I mean painfully slow. I was once stuck waiting 20 minutes for a cashier to ring up a woman who only bought 4 items. That process shouldn’t have taken more than 5, but the cashier insisted on making small talk about every item in the woman’s basket. Like, he would pick up a box of hippy granola and say, “This looks yummy!” and the woman would be all, “OMG! I know,” and then the two of them would end up having a discussion about granola. It was like a freaking life sentence.

This recent trip to Trader Joe’s was brought on by my addiction to their mango-yogurt gummy candies. I was totally expecting the usual long and arduous check-out process, and called my friends and family to tell them I loved them and might not see them again for a few years. And then I waited in line behind a woman with a half-empty shopping cart and a man who was only buying 3 things. Not that quantity mattered or anything. It wasn’t like we were going to be checked out any faster than the old man next to us who had a million things in his cart.

As I was standing in line, the woman in front turned around and started talking to the man behind her. I don’t think they knew each other because the guy didn’t seem particularly interested, and wasn’t responding to anything she said. You keep your mouth shut when someone’s trying to chat with you to prevent that person from prolonging a conversation you really don’t want to have. I mean, if you’re not giving any response, the speaker is going to feel like she’s talking a wall and will eventually leave you alone. That, or she will think you’re deaf or foreign. It doesn’t really matter as long as she shuts up.

Anyway, I was about to write off this woman’s small talk as mindless drivel until she said this:

And then this:

I’m guessing the planets and stars and tea leaves were lined up a certain way because my wish to hear details about this woman’s E-harmony profile was immediately granted.

OMG! She wrote “I love to laugh” for what I assume was a description of her interests! “I love to laugh”! And let me guess: she listed breathing as one of her hobbies.

This is what I found so damn funny about it: Everyone enjoys a good laugh. Everyone. People laugh (and I mean genuinely) when they’re happy–and who hates being happy? No one. And no one on E-harmony or whatever is going to look at this woman’s profile and think, “Whew! I am so glad she wrote that she loves laughing because I can’t stand that sh*t. Dodged a bullet there!”

The woman then said:

Taking walks on the beach? Staring at sunsets? She should have just said “I like dating-profile clichés,” because that alone would have been enough to summarize this woman’s entire romance portfolio.

But to be honest, my amusement might have been based on personal bias: I hate the beach, and viewing sunsets sounds boring as hell. In fact, I would actually have a hard time deciding which is worse: Sitting through a Dane Cook comedy show that has Criss Angel doing magic at the same time, or walking on the beach and watching the sun go down. Both seem extremely unpleasant and douchie.

As if my life sentence of waiting to check out of Trader Joe’s couldn’t get any better, the woman then drops the most ridiculous line ever:

At that point, I didn’t even bother hiding my pee-my-pants giggles anymore because there is no way she could have expected anyone within earshot to keep a straight face after hearing all of that. Even the guy who totally didn’t give a sh*t couldn’t keep his face together.

Trader Joe’s rules.

I have a list of sh*t I think people need to keep to themselves. I don’t mean stuff like the story of how you got explosive diarrhea after eating semi-raw chicken. People need to know those things! How else will they know how important it is the thoroughly cook chicken?!

Actually, the sh*t I’m talking about is real sh*t that you should never spread around to anyone unless you want an acid enema. It’s stuff you know the speaker is telling you because he means well, but it ends up coming off as stuffy and, well, sh*tty.

1. Living a Healthy Lifestyle

This is on my list of sh*t you should keep to yourself for purely selfish reasons. I’ll be the first to admit that my dietary habits are pretty crappy. A good 80% of what I eat consists of things that are full of sugar and high in calories. I love foods that are fried and smothered in cheese. My kitchen always has more chips and candy than fruits and vegetables. I wash everything down with diet soda–but at least it’s diet, right?

I know the toll these foods have on my health, and have begrudgingly embraced moderation, balanced nutrition, and regular exercise over the years. Junk food, however, is still very much a part of my daily intake. It’s just that now I’m doing whatever I need to do to stay healthy despite my indulgences–but that is the most I’m willing to do. If you decide to go above and beyond that, great. Go for it. I have nothing but respect for people who can make that kind of commitment even though it’s not for me.

But some of those who’ve had the healthy-living epiphany seem to think that if they’ve made the decision, everyone else should too. Don’t eat that popcorn chicken pizza, all covered with ranch dressing and gravy! That’s really bad for you! You should eat carrot and celery sticks lightly sprayed with Pam instead! And then they get all expert on your ass because they think reading a bunch of nutrition labels makes them dietary gurus.

Decided to start healthy living? Congratulations! Now keep that sh*t to yourself.

2. Superstitions

If you’re superstitious about something–fine. You can go ahead and avoid certain numbers, breaking mirrors, walking under ladders, and all that other stuff to your heart’s content. Who am I to stop you from doing whatever you need to do to convince yourself that you are in control of your life, you know? I don’t really care one way or another as long you keep whatever it is you do to ward off bad luck and negativity to yourself. So if you think farting against the wind will bring a curse on your household, then go ahead and fart with the wind. That kind of stuff only becomes an issue when you give me sh*t for farting against the wind because now I have to conform my farting to your superstitions. And why the hell should I do that? I don’t derive any benefit from wind-directional farting. That’s your thing! All I get out of it is an uncomfortable tightness from holding in all that ass gas.

And what about the billions of superstitions out there that you’ve never even heard of, and are therefore not following? You don’t seem to be crippled with bad luck even though you’re probably breaking a hundred superstitions every second.

Unless you can point out the times in your life when failing to follow through on a superstition caused you to experience some kind of hardship or turmoil, your superstitions will remain on the list of sh*t you should keep to yourself. And no, telling me something like, “Uh, I ate chicken on March 15th and then two weeks later I broke my wrist playing flag football” is not going to cut it.

3. Cancer Anxiety

Finally, the sh*t that started it all:

I’ve pretty much accepted that everything in the world can cause cancer. Even the things that are supposed to help decrease the risk of cancer can cause cancer. I recently read a report that found drinking alcohol could increase a woman’s risk of getting breast cancer–but then I got all confused because there was another article which said red wine could help decrease the risk of breast cancer. Uhh…okay.

One thing I like to keep in mind with these studies is that they usually end the same way: the results show a possible link between X and cancer. Possible, not definitive. But some people read these studies and think, “OMG! Cell phones totally cause brain cancer!” when there is nothing in the text to suggest anything more than “we will probably need to do additional research.” And then they go nuts buying all the hands-free sets they can find, while at the same time telling everyone who isn’t using one that a tumor is growing in their heads.

You know…until researchers get as close to finding a connection like they did with cigarettes and lung cancer, I’m going to keep putting my cell phone to my ear, drinking diet soda, and eating my blackened chicken Caesar salad. Freaking out over whatever risk probably causes cancer anyway, so keep that sh*t to yourself!

I’m not really into the watch-strangers-live-together genre of reality television because I think the format has gotten stale and raggedy over the years. Oooh…let’s get a bunch of people from all walks of stereotypes into a fancy house and see how they deal with each other. That sh*t hasn’t been fresh since the first “Real World” premiered in 1992.

Oxygen’s “Bad Girls Club” is pretty much the same way, and I find it about as exciting as eating an old-ass diaper. And yet, if I happen catch an episode while flipping channels, I have to watch it because I am obsessed with trying to figure out what the point of the show is. Have you ever watched an episode before? It’s just a bunch of really loud girls with drinking problems and bad tempers living together as roommates. Every single season can be boiled down to a simple formula:

A group of girls who already know they hate each other even before they’ve introduced themselves.

There will always be at least two girls who are from the same state, but who hate each other because they have way too much county pride.

No matter how much animosity exists, the girls will manage to put their differences aside for the sake of getting really wasted before, during, and after a trip to a local club.

But the alcohol inhibits their common sense and what little human decency they have, causing the girls to start beating each other up over strange things like being called a b*tch even though they call themselves b*tches all the time…

There are lots of fights over phone usage too. You get a lot of action scenes spliced together with talking-head segments whenever that sh*t goes down…

Action Scene:

Talking-Head Segment:

More Action Scenes:

Another Talking-Head Segment:

And that’s pretty much it. That is the formula for a successful multi-season reality show: a group of girls who repeat words like “classy” and “b*tch” every time they open their mouths, and then beat and cuss the crap out of each other. I don’t understand where the entertainment value comes in!

Happy New Year!