Cringey Quotes

They’ve had it spelled out a dozen times, in cringey classes, in cringey parent talks: when to tell an adult. The idea never comes near any of their minds. This thing opening in front of them is nothing to do with those careful speeches. This mix of roaring rage and a shame that stains every cell, this crawling understanding that now their bodies belong to other people’s eyes and hands, not to them: this is something new.

I have a boyfriend, and you don’t, so suck it, loser … Okay, I would never say that to someone, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the word. I need to practice in my head before I do something stupid in public like call him my friendboy or, worse, say something cringey like “I’ve taken a lover.

I keep looking for a hole in his persona - something he thinks he knows that I know he's wrong about. Some cringey joke. Some moment where I puncture his ego, and like every other man I've ever met, he can't handle it in his temper flares. That's what I expect to happen, because that's what's always happened when I've tried to date men. They hate when you disagree with them, especially when you're right. They hate when you don't fawn over them. And most of all, they hate when you're different than the picture of you they created in their mind.

with “This is a class assignment,” and (2) they had to engage the interactions with a straight face. They couldn’t give away the punchline. The exchanges went something like this: Students (walking in a group toward a stranger in a mall): “Excuse me, sir!” Stranger (looking around and awkwardly shifting bags of clothes): “Uhh, yeah? Me?” Students: “Yes! You. I was walking by, saw you, and wondered: Will you be my friend? Can I see pictures of your family? What are your political preferences? Can I see the pictures of your tattoos? What are your religious preferences? Why? Are you pro-choice? How come? Who are your favorite musicians? We’re going to read you a list of probing, introspective quotes, and you simply give us a thumbs up or a thumbs down if you like them or don’t like them. If you feel angry about a quote, tell us why.” And so on. My students had to video each interaction. And yes, it was as awkward and cringey as you can imagine. According to the papers they had to write after the fact, the assignment stirred up quite a bit of reflection. In a few short years, my students had come to believe they had “friends” because they knew some information about people. They thought they were connecting with those people. The exercise helped them see that our social media exchanges are anything but normal. The thumbs ups and thumbs downs are anything but connecting. The reality is that most of us don’t have any friends. Until recently, friendship was about enduring the awkwardness and ugliness of human

It’s not cute when people try to ‘fix’ each other. It’s cringey and dysfunctional. We both need to already have our shit worked out before we bring anyone else into it.

Oh, same. No exes or school bullies. No cringey television show characters. No shitty coworkers or mean customer service reps.” “That last one was very specific,” Bo says, pouring two cups of water from the bottle left on the table. “Brittany from Staples knows what she did.

sometimes reading back your thoughts, especially from a younger age, can be cringey. But it’s that cringe that gets you to the good. I feel like if you recognize it as cringe, it’s a pretty strong indication you are healing or growing or both.

I keep looking for a hole in his persona - something he thinks he knows that I know he's wrong about. Some cringey joke. Some moment where I puncture his ego, and like every other man I've ever met, he can't handle it and his temper flares. That's what I expect to happen, because that's what's always happened when I've tried to date men. They hate when you disagree with them, especially when you're right. They hate when you don't fawn over them. And most of all, they hate when you're different than the picture of you they created in their mind.

When I looked back up, his concerned face hovered over mine. I wanted to stand on my toes and kiss him. Or let him kiss me. I wanted him to be the one to ask me to marry him. If I could be with him, I’d say yes to him in a heartbeat, even if he did it in some cringey, cheesy way. Even if there were rose petals all over the fucking house. God, wouldn’t we be something? If it wasn’t for that one thing. That one thing that was everything. For a moment, in my drunken state, I thought I could tell him. I could just blurt out the truth about everything. Get it out of me, put it in his hands, let him figure out what to do with it. And then maybe it wouldn’t feel so heavy. Maybe he would be okay with it and he’d— He’d what, Kristen? Settle? He’d give up his dreams for you? “I’m so selfish,” I whispered. He put his cheek to mine and spoke into my ear. “You’re not. You’re wonderful. And you look really beautiful tonight.

My threshold for being respectful to this lucky, absent bastard was evaporating. I was going to make a move on her. If I didn’t, I’d never forgive myself for not trying. If there was even the slightest chance she might be into me, I had to try. But how? Should I just try to kiss her? Would she tell me to go to hell? Probably. What if I slid my hand over hers? Would she yank it away? She would. I knew she would. I needed something else. Something less. More subtle. Something that could go either way to test the waters. Something that could lead to something else. “Hey, I give a decent foot massage if your feet hurt.” I nodded to the center console where her heels still sat after being dropped through the sunroof. To my surprise, she pivoted until her back was against the door, and she swung her legs over into my lap. She put an arm behind her head and leaned back. “Go for it. Those heels were killing me today.” I grinned inwardly that my strategy worked and put my back to the door while I took her tiny foot in my hand. “I’m a foot massage master. ‘I don’t be tickling or nothing,’” I said, giving her a Pulp Fiction line. She snorted. “I’m exfoliated and pedicured. Someone should touch them.” I thought about what Vincent Vega says in the movie, that foot massages mean something. That men act like they don’t, but they do and that’s why they’re so cool. This meant something, and I knew she knew it. She was as familiar with that movie as I was. She had to be making the connection. And she’d allowed it. I reveled in the chance to touch her and at the unspoken meaning behind her letting me do it. “So, Foot Massage Master, what other tricks do you have in your bag?” she asked, giving me a sideways smile. I pressed a thumb into her arch and circled it around with a smirk. “I’m not giving you my trade secrets.” What if I need them? She scoffed. “Your gender doesn’t have any secrets that every woman hasn’t already seen by the time they’re twenty.” I arched an eyebrow. “Ever heard of the naked man?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh God, the naked man. That one’s the worst.” I laughed. “Why? Because it works?” She scrunched up her face. “I have to admit it has worked on me in the past. I mean, the guy’s naked. Half the work is done for you already. It’s kind of hard to say no. But when it doesn’t work, it’s so cringey.” I tipped my head from side to side. “It’s risky. I’ll give you that. You have to know your audience. But big risks can reap big rewards.” “Waiting for your girlfriend to leave the room and then stripping naked to surprise her when she gets back is so unoriginal though. You men have no new material. I swear you could go back twenty thousand years and peek into a cave and find cavemen drawing penises on everything and doing the naked man and the helicopter.” I pulled her foot closer and laughed. “Hey, don’t knock the helicopter. It’s the first move we learn. It can be a good icebreaker.” “The helicopter should be banned over the age of eight. I’m just going to spare you the illusion right now. No woman is sitting around with her girlfriends going, ‘Gurl, it was the sexiest helicopter I’ve ever seen. Totally broke the ice.’” I chuckled and ran my hand up her smooth calf, rubbing the muscle. I pictured that delicate ankle on my shoulder where I could kiss it, run my palm down the outside of her thigh, pull down those light-blue lace panties…

If you’re looking for tips on how to smile bigger, have happier thoughts, and turn the other cheek when faced with cruel behavior that’s harming you and others, then we should kindly part ways now. I’m going to tackle the upper level curricula in this book. Incivility is a formidable force that has defeated countless challengers who have stood in opposition to it, and we must bestow our fullest respect before engaging it in battle. Toothy grins, toxic positivity, and cringey team-building exercises that a sleep-deprived squirrel could devise won’t come close to slaying this beast.