Dating, Relationships, & Sex, Theory & Essay

On Every Argument That’s Ever Occurred In Any Relationship That’s Ever Existed

We’ve heard the story before

Boy sees Girl at semi-annual Kappa indoor kickball fundraiser for gout research afterparty. Boy approaches Girl and Girl, tipsy, slightly annoyed by the realization that two guys she crushed on in college just got married to each other in a wedding more beautiful than any she’d possibly have, and slightly ovulating, appreciates the gesture. They talk, exchange numbers, date, find out that they actually aren’t annoyed by each other’s presence, have an appropriate amount of C-plus to A-minus sex, and, in a couple month’s time, go from being “Boy” and “Girl” to “Boy and Girl.”

Fast forward six months. Chicken processing farm next to Girl’s office catches fire, releasing a stench that forces her to leave the office despite not finishing an important project. This is just the latest in a series of tiny disappointments that have recently occurred in Girl’s life, and Girl’s mood is (expectedly) shitty. Girl calls Boy to pick her up from work. Boy, partially because he had a couple other not really all that important things to do, and partially because he’s kind of a lazy bastard, shows up 15 minutes late. This is usual for him. Usually it’s no big deal, but today his lateness has dire consequences, as now Girl’s entire pants suit — a pants suit she was planning on returning to Rainbow that weekend, mind you — smells like chicken livers. And, as everyone knows, if you go outside smelling like chicken livers, a squirrel just might try to f*ck you.

Girl didn’t tell Boy about how important it was to be on time today, but, as she screams when she gets in the car, “Dammit, Boy! How the f*ck can I expect you to make sure our kids get vaccinated in time if you can’t even pick me up from work on time?”

Boy’s all like “Whoa…wait. What the hell are you talking about? We don’t have any kids. And, it’s not my fault you smell like the produce section at Save-a-Lot. You should have told me how serious your situation was. I would have been on time.”

Girl, now stripping and rubbing hand sanitizer all over her body to rid self of the chicken liver scent, replies “That’s the point. You should have been on time anyway. Why do I have to remind you to do something you’re supposed to f*cking do? How can I expect you to do anything important for me if you can’t be trusted to do something so simple?”

Boy mumbles “My goodness, you’re insane” under his breath while exhaling and shaking his head.

Girl (who’s now sitting in the passenger seat completely naked with white tube socks on): “What?’

Boy: “I’m just saying. It’s not fair. You’re expecting me to read your mind. If you would have told me that the chicken plant exploded, I would have been on time.”

Girl: “And if you would have just been on time — like any normal adult would have been — this wouldn’t be happening right now.” Girl points at her ankles and, lo and behold, a baby squirrel (don’t ask how it got in the car) is down there humping her leg.

“Now I gotta walk around all day smelling like chicken livers and baby squirrel semen, and you’re still trying to give me some bullshit excuse.”

Boy, doing his best “I’m technically apologizing but I’m annoyed now too and you’re gonna know how annoyed I am” apology “I’m sorry. If I would have known you’d be naked in my car with chicken liver in your pores and squirrel semen on your socks, I would have been on time.”

Girl, now staring out the window: “F*ck you. I should have just caught the bus.”

Boy: “I agree.”

Whose side are you on? (And why?)

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

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Damon Young

Damon Young is the editor-in-chief of VSB. He is also a contributing editor for He resides in Pittsburgh, and he really likes pancakes.

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