Do you ever get that uncomfortable feeling that creeps up on you at the worst time?  Maybe that one that shows up after you’ve been having a blast, making fast friends, and then all the sudden you realize you one of three people left at a friend-of-a-friend’s house and the friend that brought you has disappeared into thin air?

Yeah, it’s that well known feeling of shock, horror, and awkward turtles letting you know that you are lingering.  You’ve just been there too long.

We’ve all done it.  I’ve had my fair share of overstays, not taking hints, and utter annoyances.  It’s a natural progression from being completely oblivious to social cues to blossoming into the world of knowing when to utilize a timely exit.

But for some, this realization never comes to fruition, so we are left with the human crumbs of a once delightful friend cake.  The remnants that hang around too long, are hard to get to leave, and ultimately, end up ruining a perfectly good dinner date.

Are you that guy or girl that likes to greet friends and relatives with a warm embrace?  If so, good for you!  I’m all for a handshake to hug combination when it comes to people I haven’t seen in a while.  But for the love of Rudolph at a clown convention, don’t hug me for more than fifteen seconds. Chin to shoulders, maybe a pat on the back and a, “Nice to see ya, bucko!” and let’s just move on.

If that’s not enough to make you uncomfortable, let’s bring up that person at the party who tells jokes that no one understands. I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t quite understand why you’re equating your wife with professional cow tipping. But I’m going to fake laugh anyways and try and change the subject to something we can all relate to, like stickers, puppies, and wine.

Oh yeah, and screw you, hangover, you sneaky son of a bitch.  If I wanted pain of death without actually dying to last more than an hour, I would avoid drinking all together.  Instead I take the good with the bad, knowing that my headache is a mere consequence of my inability to avoid peer pressure, pop an Advil and move on with my day.  But sometimes, Mr. Hangover, you want to hang around all day, and frankly, I don’t approve.  It’s rude, and it confines me to a twenty-four hour horizontal period of indoor vampire activity because sunlight hurts my eyeballs.  Take a cue from the last kid at the party and leave before you’re unwanted.

It’s that smell that seems to permeate the air at the worst possible time.  You could be out at the bar with your friends, having a girls night, taking shots and reminiscing about the time you studied abroad and got robbed in broad daylight.  Then all the sudden this stench hits your nose like a punch from Mohammad Ali.  You cannot get over it, you cannot look past it, and you cannot figure out where it is coming from.  If you are the person providing the general public with a smell strong enough to bring the fun level in a room down, please make a note to check yourself before you wreck everyone else.  It’s common sense to have a sense of smell; use deodorant.

I’d like to politely say, “stop it forever” to The Cranberries. You do not have to, have to let it linger.  The band had to practice some sort of ironic witchcraft that allowed that song to have staying power, but nevertheless, I’m here to plead with the masses and ask to remove it from your rotation, permanently.

It’s all fun and games to take a trip down memory lane.  Some of the greatest memories I have as a child are so vivid in my mind it’s like they happened yesterday.  But there is something about seeing an image that is so mentally scarring that it’s almost like an iron, tattoo needle, and a camera all came together around your cerebellum and said, “this one is going to stick with you forever.”  Do I want to forget the time I unintentionally intercepted a sexual text message between two people with whom I should not know anything about their sex life? Absolutely.  Is it going to forever be burned into my brain only to leave when I die? Yes.

But that’s the thing about the lingerer – it doesn’t go away when it should.  I don’t understand why the good things never seem to hang around, like maintaining your goal weight after after a birthday party at Junk Foods R’ Us, or not feeling pain when you walk in heels.

Basically, whoever said too much of a good thing is bad never had anything good happen to them.  They probably wanted to make out with the person hosting the party, had a blast and stayed longer than anticipated, but ultimately ended up staying too late and making it awkward.

And that sucks for that person, but let’s not make unwanted hang arounds a thing, okay?