Are leftovers bad? Also, how do you divide a check when there are more people in one group than the other and you hate one of the other people?

You all know I’m weird about eating out, right?

But I think you will be on my side on this one, even the Go Out To Eaters. (I love you all! I do! I love my going out to eat friends. I just feel poor all the time. 🙂 )

This is a story about Mr T’s older brother. I never want to eat with him again, even if he would pay for it, which he would not.

Years ago, we were visiting my sister, who lives in the same area as Mr T’s older brother, OB the Jerk (OBtJ).

Mr T, for some reason, had let OBtJ know we were in town, so OBtJ invited us over to dinner.

Only it wasn’t to dinner, it was to meet him, his wife (who is actually pretty cool but I do not have a relationship with her because I cannot stand her husband), and their very hungry teenage son at a restaurant.

They picked the restaurant. It was a hot pot restaurant, where they cook soup at the table and you share it. Everyone is eating the same thing from a communal pot.

It was good food and there were a ton of leftovers.

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Let’s talk about leftovers!

How do you feel about leftovers?

Yes! People actually do have feelings about leftovers!

Mine are that when I prepare food, I might as well make a huge batch so we have leftovers because that way, you get more out of your setup costs.

Are there people who would rather cook a small batch of something fresh every single day?

What a waste of time. You could just double the recipe and then you cook only every other day. Or you triple it and put some in the freezer and that way, you don’t have to eat the same thing every day.

But Mr T’s brother, years before that, had proclaimed that he and his family did not eat leftovers.

I still don’t know why.

I should have asked him, but my strategy with OBtJ is to minimize interactions.

I can’t think of a single good reason to put PERFECTLY GOOD FOOD IN THE TRASH rather than save it for the next day.

You should know that OBtJ likes to name drop (he’s friends with the daughter of a senator!) and likes to act like he’s rich (buying groceries at Dean and Delucca even if it means he can’t pay off his credit card – I know this because he asked his dad for help paying the credit cards years ago when he was a grown-ass adult).

Maybe he thinks leftovers is something only poor people do?

But he was adamant that his family did not lower themselves to leftovers.

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Back to the meal at the restaurant.

The check came.

I thought, Total dollars divided by five people.

Right?

Because we all shared from the same pot and there were five of us and Nephew ate A LOT but I was still going to count him as only one.

Nope.

OBtJ asked the waiter to bring some to-go containers.

“You’re in a hotel so we’ll take the leftovers,” OBtJ announced.

But you don’t eat leftovers! I thought. You said you don’t eat leftovers!

Then the waiter brought the check.

“We can share, right?” OBtJ asked.

Mr T nodded. That was fine with me. I did not expect them to buy our dinner.

OBtJ tossed down his credit card, as did Mr T.

When the waiter returned, OBtJ said, “Just split it in half. Half on each card.”

My jaw dropped.

There were three of them and two of us and they were taking all the leftovers?

But we were supposed to split the bill in half?

This place was not inexpensive.

And we were supposed to subsidize them?

The We Don’t Eat Leftovers people who were taking the leftovers?

Mr T and I were shocked into silence.

(I would not be silent today, now that I have had a decade to stew on it. Also, Mr T and I are no longer trying to make nice with OBtJ.)

(Yes I said a decade. Maybe longer. I can hold a grudge.)

I am happy to split down the middle with my friends. I am happy to split a check with people I like. I am happy to treat my friends.

My. Friends.

But people like Mr T’s brother? Where I didn’t even want to be around him in the first place?

Nope nope nope.

But neither of us knew what to say, so we paid for half the meal.

And we have never eaten with them again.

And I never will.

I gasp every time I see my neck

I didn’t used to think I was vain because I never had anything to be vain about.

That is, I thought I never had anything to be vain about. My entire life, I have been surrounded by girls and women far more attractive than I.

When we were little, strangers would stop in the street to marvel at my sister’s beauty – her rosy cheeks and her blonde curls tumbling down her back – and pinch her cheeks, cooing, “Ay que preciosa!”

I was not cooed after or admired.

I was called “fatso.”

My best friend in high school was avidly pursued and asked out.

I was not.

I got used to it. That’s just the way things were.

I thought I was nothing special to look at.

I thought I had no reason to be vain.

And then I saw my neck. The neck I have now. The neck middle-aged me has after a childhood spent in the sun, the neck I have after not wearing good sunblock until I was 30 neck.

And then I became vain.

But not for how I look now.

For how I looked then.

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Do we all have that same epiphany?

That surprise view of our neck/our hands/our upper arms when we weren’t expecting it?

That harsh view of us that we can usually not see if we avoid mirrors and cameras?

That realization that even though in our minds, we are 18, in our bodies we are not?

How do you deal with it?

I mean, it’s not like we have a choice. We can’t change it.

But I have to admit I’m a little mad at my younger self for taking it all for granted.

For not even knowing!

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Why don’t we know this when we have it?

Oh wait I know why.

Because the entire world tells women that we are not enough. That we need this makeup or these clothes or this surgery or this diet to be enough. That we need to change who we are and how we look. That we need to be thinner/curvier/firmer. That we need to smile more. But to laugh less or, at least, don’t laugh at men. That we need to talk less and listen more while the menfolks pontificate. That we need to dress sexier but not too sexy because what about the men who can’t control themselves and will want to rape us? That we need to LeanIn #girlboss but not too much because we don’t want to be bossy.

That we just can’t be.

I am so tired of this.

You mean, What’s it like to be over half of the world’s population?

@georgiagolfcoach

Can you believe he said this? 😳⛳️👀 #golf #golfswing #golflife #golftok #golftiktok #golfer #golfing #golfgirl #golfpro #golftips #golfclub #drivingrange

♬ original sound – Georgia Ball Golf

In the Year of our Lord Twenty and Twenty Four, at an event I attended, a man did ask a woman the eternal question “What’s it like to be a woman in [A MAN’S SPACE]?”

He meant no malice, I am sure.

He was truly curious.

It never occurred to him that behind his question was the belief that she was intruding into a domain where women do not belong.

---

I had thought initially that I would write about how women have been and are in this specific space, but then I realized that nope, this question gets asked in just about every category. It’s not limited to women in [the thing he asked about].

And it’s not the only stupid question women get asked that men do not.

“How do you manage motherhood and career?”

“How do you manage running for office while being a mom?”

“What’s your favorite cookie recipe?”

“How are you going to do your hair in space?”

“Why aren’t you smiling?”

BTW, I should mention that when I googled “stupid questions women get asked,” I got answers about stupid questions women ask men.

Even when I changed the search term to “stupid questions men ask women,” the fourth answer was “What questions do women ask that drive you crazy?”

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Years ago, I met an older man who complained that his company was hiring women and it was ruining things for the men, who felt like they could no longer cuss and be crass at work.

Poor guy.

His life is hard.

---

A friend shared the post that Beyoncé is the first Black woman to have a number one country song.

One of her friends – male, white – said good for her but I don’t really care for the song.

Because – why?

What does his opinion of the song add to the discussion?

Who told him that his opinion matters?

OH WAIT I KNOW THE WORLD.

Or so he has been told most of his life.

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The woman who was asked about being a woman in a man’s world at the event I attended laughed. Instead of asking why her questioner had not asked the same of the five men who were also performing, which I would have applauded but I understand why she didn’t want to go there, she just said that OH YOU KNOW SHE HAS TO DO HER HAIR.

Which is a stupid answer but it was a stupid question and that’s the only answer that question deserved.

Although if it weren’t for Mr T’s jerk relatives, I would lose most of my writing inspiration so there is that

Have I talked about Mr T’s brother?

Oh man.

He is a piece of work.

I can’t remember what I called him if I have talked about him, so let’s just call him Brother.

Brother is actually Mr T’s half brother. Their dad left Brother’s mom for Mr T’s mom. Mr T’s mom and dad always referred to Brother as “stepbrother” (which is incorrect) or “half-brother,” which I don’t understand. Why would you qualify the relationship like that? Just say “brother.” Mr T’s parents worked very hard to distance themselves from everyone.

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When Mr T’s mom and dad died (within six weeks of each other), he cleaned out their house. Brother claimed that Mr T’s mom had told Brother’s Wife (BW) she was leaving her a bracelet.

Mr T sent bracelet after bracelet to BW, but each time, they said “That’s not the one!”

Mr T finally just dumped his mom’s entire jewelry case into a box and mailed it to Brother.

(He also sent them his parents’ silver-plate fancy silverware, which was a beautiful act of passive aggression and one I applauded. Brother was pissed, which was the intention.)

Brother said they had taken the bracelets to the jeweler and they were all costume jewelry and then he suggested that Mr T had kept the Good Bracelet for himself, which is completely unlikely as Mr T does not wear jewelry and I would not have put something from his mother on my body even if I were dead.

(Mr T did not steal the bracelet.)

Mr T was also named the executor of his parents’ will, from which he and Brother and Other Brother (who is nice) were disinherited in favor of the Brothers’ children, and named trustee for the grandchildren, an appointment that will turn out to run about 12 years.

Brother, who has a disabled son, has accused Mr T of stealing from the trust.

(Mr T has not stolen from the trust.)

(But Brother asked the trust for reimbursement for his expenses to attend their dad’s funeral, even including an airport parking receipt FOR THE EXPENSIVE PARKING AT THE AIRPORT, NOT THE OFFSITE CHEAP PARKING.)

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I should note that yes, I am talking trash about a relative, although neither Mr T nor I want anything to do with this relative.

I figure your right to privacy – even as a relative – disappears once you are a jerk to me or to someone I love and Brother calling Mr T on the phone and screaming at him when Mr T refused to reimburse him $800 a ticket for his and his family’s tickets to their dad’s funeral even though he had gotten those tickets with frequent flyer miles and could have bought them for under $400 each with cash, counts as being a jerk.

It also counts as being a jerk when Brother refers to the funeral for Mr T’s mom as a “gig.”

It also counts as being a jerk when you try to convince Mr T to spend the trust money on a fancy dinner the night before our sister-in-law’s funeral (Other Brother’s Wife). That is, Brother wanted his nieces and nephew’s trust money to pay for a fancy supper – their money – on the night before they buried their mother.

(Mr T refused. He told Brother that “the trust” was not their dad’s money anymore but belonged to the grandkids.)

(Also how tacky is that to want the bereaved nieces and nephew to buy your meal? If anything, you pay for their meal.)

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Brother has a disabled son, as I mentioned, and for years Mr T was the trustee for Son’s trust. He finally got the trusteeship transferred to Brother and BW (which is where it should have been in the first place), sighing in relief at the idea of not having to deal with Brother or the hassle of administering one of the trusts anymore.

Which is why when Brother sent a long email to Mr T asking for very specific investment advice about the trust assets, Mr T wrote a reasoned, calm response about how nope, he would not be offering advice, mostly because he is not qualified to act as a financial or tax advisor but also because he is happy to be done with that shit.

But Brother had asked one question for which Mr T was able to find an answer quickly by googling, which BROTHER COULD HAVE DONE.

And Brother pounced, replying that that answer is precisely why Mr T has to be involved in the trust.

• (Mr T) I know almost nothing about ABLE accounts, but is it possible that income from the SNT could be distributed to an ABLE account for Son without issuing a K-1 to him?

(Brother) Great fucking idea; hadn’t crossed my mind. This, frankly, (don’t call me Frank) is why you should and shall be involved in Son’s trust management! I continue to “executive-produce” and refuse to lose, refuse to take no for an answer.

Mr T has not answered that email, which is from mid January.

I think Brother thinks he’s won?

I’m curious to know how Brother intends to enforce his edict.

Because Mr T is done with him.

Finally.

Lelaina, we tried to warn you

It’s Year 30 after Lelaina has chosen Troy, the LOSER who was mean to Lelaina and who was so smart that he couldn’t be bothered to get a job but instead slept on his friends’ couch and didn’t contribute to the rent or buy food but he did read Being and Nothingness so we knew how very smart he was.

Now Lelaina is a successful documentarian. She makes money making movies and she has won awards. She’s really good.

(Although every time she goes to an awards show, they ask her about her clothes and how she balances motherhood and career instead of asking about her work, which pisses her off.)

Troy is still unemployed, although he has had brief stints at the 7-11.

But he usually does not have a paying job because he is Too Smart and he will not Bow To The Man and also because of his Art, which Lelaina supports by talking about on Instagram, showing videos of his band in rehearsal. Through her connections, she has gotten the band a gig or two at the local Ramada.

They have two kids.

(Maybe he’s good in bed? They did have that “I want a Bad Boy to be good for me/I want a Good Girl to be bad for me” vibe.)

(They don’t have sex much anymore. Troy doesn’t do anything to seduce Lelaina, plus he has a nasty cough and gross breath from all that smoking. Lelaina quit years ago.)

Troy doesn’t even get off the couch to feed the kids, waiting for Lelaina to get home from work and make supper after her long day of making sure she can pay the mortgage and that her kids have health insurance.

When she travels for work, she leaves casseroles in the freezer, but he finds it easier to order DoorDash. He is a bad tipper because he thinks the gig economy exploits people. He’s right that it exploits people, but he should be tipping if he’s going to participate.

He also does not clean the house or do laundry or go to the grocery store.

He doesn’t do shit.

Lelaina keeps up a brave front, posting on Instagram any one of the rare times that Troy does something nice for her. Like he bought her flowers once last year. They were on the discount rack at the gas station, but flowers are flowers, he thinks.

On her birthday, he made her coffee and brought it to her in bed.

He took the dog out for a walk once before she got home.

“HASHTAG FEELING LOVED!” she writes next to a stock photo of a cappuccino.

She ignores his nasty comments to her friends on Facebook, where he takes brave stands against The Man and corrects everyone’s grammar.

Her friends say nothing to her, but wonder in the privacy of their own homes why Lelaina doesn’t leave his sorry ass.

---

Mr T had never seen Reality Bites (it came out shortly after he married his first wife and started helping raise her two daughters), so I got it from the library and we watched it.

He was most shocked by the smoking – it’s not something we’re used to seeing anymore.

And then we saw in the credits that Renee Zellweger was in the movie, so we had to go back to find her.

He agreed that Troy was a jerk, but did not join me in screaming at Lelaina DO NOT CHOOSE HIM! HE’S NOT EVEN APOLOGIZING AND SAYING HE DOESN’T DESERVE A SECOND CHANCE BUT WOULD SHE PLEASE GIVE HIM ONE!

In her defense, I would have been equally stupid at 21, picking the hot brooding intellectual (although I have never found Ethan Hawke attractive – sorry Ethan – I think it’s because you play such unappealing characters) over the safe guy in the suit. Sex trumps sense at that age.

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Helen Childress was only 20 years old when she wrote the script.

YAY HELEN! How awesome are you that you sold a movie script when you were 20!!! You are amazing!

But – would you write the same ending today?

Not even that Lelaina should have chosen Michael, who was a nice guy with a job and who made no secret of how much he adored Lelaina.

But that Lelaina should have told both of them that she wanted to do her own thing and to leave her alone.

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I want Childress to write an update.

I want Childress to show the kids graduating from college and Lelaina telling Troy to get out she is tired of his lazy ass.

Yes, she will have to pay alimony but she will have her freedom.

Does she meet up with Michael again? Does she find someone else?

Or do she and Vickie, who has risen through the ranks of The Gap and is now SVP of Merchandising but really only does it as a hobby because she made a lot of money from her stock options, start to hang out again?

(Vickie hated how Troy treated Lelaina.)

Yes. That’s what happens. Vickie retires early and helps Lelaina make a “Where are they now the voice of my generation?” film. After that one is done and premieres at Sundance, winning the Gold Prize, they make another one about how women’s rights are being stolen from us, which inspires thousands of young women to register to vote, ensuring that Trump is defeated.

I don’t want to say Troy gets lung cancer and dies because that’s mean, but he is ignored, even on the Andrew Tate sites, because nobody cares what he thinks. He had his chance and he blew it.