A few years ago my friends and I started a group called DontBeThatGuy Films. Our purpose was simple: inform the world how to avoid being that guy (oh, and to try to make people laugh in the process). We made a bunch of videos (one of which had over 3.5 million views, which developed into a Top 10 comedy podcast on iTunes in 2007 (subscribe here).

We ended up only making two videos that specifically confronted those guys head on – The Automobile Edition and The Cellphone Edition (which only point out a total of 20 guys or so). I can’t help but feel like we’ve done the world a disservice.

So, every now and then, I am (along with some faithful guest-posters) am going to be bringing certain guys to your attention in hopes that you will not become them. You’re welcome in advance.
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DBTM: Don’t Be That Mom

(This Saturday Morning Guest Post is from Leigh Floyd, a consistently hilarious commenter here and my first female guest poster)

The Facebooker
She has a Facebook account and not only has requested to be friends with every person she knows, but also with all of her kid’s friends. She keeps thinking she is writing on a wall when actually she is posting a status therefore broadcasting things such as:

“U look great 2 Melissa! Ur kids are 2 cute.”

When she does post a status correctly it is uniquely embarrassing. Such as: “Just dance, It’ll be okay – LOL” or “Headed to the gstore and then spaghetti 4 dinner. Yum-O”.

This mom also enjoys reading what her kid’s friends have posted and then using it against them later.

The Slang Thrower
Oh, Slang Thrower, why you gotta be like that?  Oh yeah, this mom knows all the words and phrases the kids are saying these days.  She watches The Hills, so of course she’s on top of it. This mom is also known to mix it up a bit by incorporating slang from the past 20 years into her conversations at inappropriate times, such as “Killer”, “Right On” and “Talk to the hand!”

She says “tight” and “sick” and she’s not even talking about your jeans or little Billy’s barf party. Now, she doesn’t use these words around her friends.  Oh no.  She reserves these gems for use around her kids’ friends.  Her friends wouldn’t understand anyway.  Not that she’s hatin’, it’s just, well, they can be whack. Here’s a typical conversation with the Slang Thrower:

Kid’s Friend: Hi Ms. T.
Slang Thrower: (holding her fist up for a bump) Whassup whassup, little man?
Kid: (Eyes rolling as he heads to the fridge for a Dr. Thunder)
KF: (slightly/awkwardly bumping fist w/ST) Ummm, not much.
ST: I hear your new skateboard is off the chain.
K: Mom.
KF:  Yeah, I like it.
ST: That Fred across the street has some sick skills.  Maybe he will help you.
K: Sick. Skills. Seriously?
KF: (slowly looking at Kid) Okay, uh, thanks.
ST: Fo shizzle.
K: (disgustedly walks out, giving a nod for his friend to follow)
KF: See ya, Ms. T.
ST: Later dudes.

The Football Mom
This mom comes to games sporting her sons practice jersey, carrying a large cowbell and a poster with his name in glitter. Sometimes she brings a foghorn but only during playoffs. When her son does something good she can be heard yelling: “You da man, Cuatro Uno!

During the game she sometimes walks down to the coaches and offers them a shoulder rub and a damp towel while reminding them that her son hasn’t gotten all his playing time in yet, and oh, he really likes to play middle linebacker instead of outside linebacker.
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The Sandwich Artist

(This Saturday Morning Guest Post is from my good friend Nate Rector, a faithful reader/commenter on this blog and the only eight-on-eight football coach I know)
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Sometimes I wonder if the people who work at Subway have actually ever eaten a sandwich? I know that it is reasonable to assume that almost every citizen of every modernized country has, at some point, consumed a sandwich.  But the way Subway employees go about constructing their product for customers, I can only assume they have never had a sandwich themselves.

How else can you explain the seemingly total ignorance of proper topping portions? For example, because of my past experience with the sandwich artists (the most ludicrous title in pop culture), I know that when I ask for olives, the artist is going to assume I want them to erect an actual olive village on my turkey; so I ask for “a couple olives.” The lady literally places two olives on my foot-long sub. When I asked for a few more, trying not to laugh at her, she defends herself by reminding me that I did ask for two. Indeed I did, Subway lady. Indeed I did.

After the olive brush up, I still have the gall to ask for a few condiments – mayo and mustard, nothing fancy. Apparently, she is of the opinion that if these sauces (are mayo and mustard a sauce?) do not soak through the shoddily cut sourdough (don’t think I don’t notice how carelessly you cut my loaf) before I get to my house, then I simply do not have enough condiments.

So, after eating my soggy olive and mustard sandwich, I have irrevocably concluded two things:

1. Sandwich artists are not sandwich eaters
2. Publix subs are worth the extra 2 dollars

Am I wrong about these things?  Is your local Subway an oasis of appropriate topping portions?
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The Work Teeth-Brusher

(Saturday Morning Guest Post from Bryan Allain)
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All you wanted to do was take a quick leak so you could get back to your Google Reader. But there he was, brushing his teeth in the work bathroom sink like he owned the place. It bothered you, didn’t it? Well, it bothered me too, and here’s why.

The Spectacle – Everyone I know brushes once in the morning and once at night. Adding in a third brushing is fine, but why not after dinner in the privacy of your own home? This guy is not concerned with having clean teeth; he’s concerned with you thinking he has clean teeth.

The Particles – Hey buddy, do you smell that? That’s the smell of feces and urine. You don’t smell it at home because your toilet only gets flushed 10 times a day. But here at work, all five of these toilets see 10 flushes in an hour. So go ahead, keep brushing with your proprietary blend of Aquafresh and human waste. And excuse me while I gag.

The Spit – You know what’s grosser than brushing your teeth with peepaste? Spitting all over the sink I’m about to use. Oh, you think splashing some water around is going to get rid of all your spit germs? Sorry buddy, I’ve seen Dateline too many times. You might as well spit your poopaste foam directly onto my hands.

The Squatting – The work bathroom experience should be handled like an armed robbery. You get in and out as fast as you can, preferably without getting ID’ed.  Not this guy, though. He sets up his own personal hygienic station at the scene of the crime. Today he’s brushing his teeth; tomorrow he’s soaking his feet in the sink. If you don’t think he’s trying to get his whole office moved into Stall #3, think again.

The Brush – Does this guy commute with his toothbrush or does he keep a separate one at work? If he’s commuting, he probably carries it in his pocket where it rubs up against dirty pennies and lint all day. If he has a separate work toothbrush, you know he just throws in into a drawer next to his grimy stapler.  Either way, it would be healthier to brush your teeth with a rabid dog’s tail then it would be to use that nasty toothbrush.

So here’s the deal. If you’re a work teeth-brusher, now’s your chance to come clean.

And if you’ve got your own work bathroom pet peeves, this is a safe place to air your grievances.
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The Music Library

(Saturday Morning Guest Post from my brother Bryan)

I don’t know what it is, but there is something incredibly gratifying about letting other people figure out how much you know about music.  But then there are the extremes.  I love thinking about the different ways people go about letting you know that they are MTV in the flesh. Here are some examples:

“Is this Pink Floyd?” - The real question this person is asking is, “Did you know that I know this is Pink Floyd?” I’ve done this numerous times and I feel like I’m pretty convincing in the way I ask it.  I’m probably the least knowledgeable about music out of anyone I know, but if I caught the end of a VH1 music video while I was flipping through the channels the night before, you better believe you’re going to hear about it.

“This Rihanna song is so overplayed” - Most likely, you’ve heard other people say this, but you’re using the phrase to not only submit the fact that Rihanna is in your music library, but that you listen to SO MUCH music that you know the song is overplayed.  This phrase happened a lot more when people relied on FM radio rather than their iPods.

“I haven’t heard this song since the Coldplay concert back in 2000.” - You kill too birds with one stone in this comment.  The first is, “Heck yeah I go to concerts.”  The second is actually my favorite part in all of this.  It says that you have been a Coldplay fan WAYYYYY before anyone else.  You practically discovered the band and you’re pissed that they are getting so popular and mainstream.  You remember the days when you met Chris Martin for coffee on Friday mornings before work and now he won’t even return your phone calls.  Why, C-Mart, why?

“Did you know Jay-Z went to high school with Notorious B.I.G?” - This is what I like to call the little-known fact.  The more odd facts you know about musicians, the bigger a fan you are.  Obviously.

The Quiz Game – This might be my least favorite game in the world.  It’s when Music Library scans the car radio and stops on every song to ask, “Who is this?”  On the 1 in 15 you get right, there are always follow-up questions just so you don’t get to feeling too good about yourself.  One of my best friends plays this game all the time with me…

Music Library: Who is this?
Me: I don’t know
…FM scan…
ML: Who is this?
Me: Aerosmith
ML: What album is it from?
Me: Get a Grip
ML: Who produced it?
Me: I don’t know
ML: AHA!…Columbia Records

I like to play the same game with talk radio…

Me: Who is this?
ML: I don’t know
Me: AHA!…Clark Howard

Do you know The Music Library? What else do you wish he’d stop doing?
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The Laugh Accessorizer

Sometimes people feel the need to accessorize their laughter. They refuse to be passive recipients of a joke. They’re only satisfied when they’re actively engaged in the whole process.

The Toucher – When I attempt something funny, all I’m looking for in return is a laugh. This person, though, feels like they need to pepper their laughter with some sort of physical contact…anything from a forearm caress to a full-on bicep grab.

The Clapper – Your joke affects this person the same way his favorite team scoring a touchdown would. The moment the joke lands, his first instinct is to give an affirming single clap (not multiple claps…that would be ridiculous). I, unfortunately, am this person.

The Praiser – This person isn’t satisfied with merely laughing at every joke ever told. No, they want to make sure you know that your joke was the one. Their levels of endorsement range from high fives and fist pounds to reverent post-laugh commentary.

The Whiplasher – I am afraid to say something funny around this person. If I happen to land the joke, he violently snaps his head backwards as though his car has just been rear-ended. I never know whether to keep rolling or to stop and see if he is OK.

The Verbalizer – I hate to come out and admit this. This is my go-to when I don’t really think something is that funny. Someone delivers a joke, and instead of trying to muster up a laugh sound, I go straight into a complimentary statement – “Bro, that is hilarious.”

The Sprinkler – We all know this person. Once the clever one-liner is delivered, this person goes wide-mouth and pans across the room, bouncing from person to person, before whipping back to the original jokester.

Which one are you? Any others that I’m missing?
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The Wave Starter

When I was 15, I started a 50,000-person “Beat LA” chant at the Braves game. There isn’t a greater feeling in life, knowing that you single-handedly birthed a 3-minute revolution. This is precisely why The Wave Starter exists. He’s tasted the magic and wants nothing more than another shot at glory.

You know the guy I’m talking about. He had 13 beers during the pre-game tailgate. He proudly dons a t-shirt from a sorority function he went to back in ‘01 and wears sunglasses with Croakies (even though it’s nearly 8pm). Oh, and he’s always ready to fight. Yes, that’s the guy.

He’ll devote no less than 4 innings to making this wave happen. Eight minutes in, he’s sweatier than any of the players on the field. You think about joining in, but decide against it. Now he’s pissed at you. He keeps telling you (specifically) to Come on! and you do your best to pretend like you don’t notice. At some point, the game on the field is no longer relevant. All you care about is defeating The Wave Starter and crushing his dreams.

Eventually, the crowd will give in. The wave will make a victorious half-lap before dying out in left-center field. The Wave Starter will tell this heroic tale for the next five decades – how he overcame the odds, defeated the villain (you), and brought thousands to their feet. Then his grandkids will tell him he’s a loser.

Do you know someone who is The Wave Starter? I do.
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The Over-Waiter

The Double Goodbyer

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