Writing (and receiving) this newsletter is a lot like ordering fast fashion from Amazon… you never know what you're going to get (Forest Gump voice)
Your recent order could be the hottest Lulu dupe you’ve ever seen… or it could be a polyester trash bag with mismatched stitching. Either way, it’s $10, so who cares?
But lucky for you (unlike Amazon fast fashion), this newsletter usually always slaps. The drunken Taco Bell escapade I sent last week was a crowd favorite.
I can't decide if I'm proud or tickled at the number of you who emailed me back and unashamedly admitted to your own Taco Bell guilty pleasures.
(Except you, Lauren, I am so sorry the TB did you so freakin' dirty 😂)
I think I deserve a sponsorship after that TB story… although if the Taco Bell PR team is reading this, hit me up after Dry January when I’m back on my drunken BS.
Over the past year, this weekly read has gotten more and more unhinged to the point where I'm starting to wonder if I'm a genius or completely exposing my craziness.
Regardless, you're here and I love that for us 🫶
So in my procrastinating fashion, I was brainstorming what I wanted to write about this week.
Sometimes stories just come to me before bed, in the sauna, or on the drive to get my kids from school. I'll think of something hilarious and realize the life lesson in it is too good to not share.
Other times, I realize things as they’re occurring in real-time would make a great newsletter story. When that happens, I run to my handy-dandy-notepad (aka my Apple notes) and furiously jot them down on the spot. My running list of bullet-point stories and life moments is getting pretty long. I think I’m ready for an open mic night??? 🙃
For example, the other night, as my fiancé and I were sitting in bed before watching a little TV for the evening, I randomly blurt out,
“Did you ever make out with the wall in the shower when you were a kid for practice?”
The look of disgust on his face was immediate and similar to this… 👇
My initial reaction was defense…
“What!!! I was just practicing!!!” which quickly dissolved as I thought to myself,
‘I mean I AM a pretty good kisser? The practice must’ve worked…”
I then proceeded to think about how often my current shower walls get cleaned (thankfully it’s every two weeks now since we have a housekeeper but I most definitely never had a housekeeper growing up, so I’d say more like months at a time?)
Which led me to admit, “…yeah that’s pretty disgusting.”
But as that train of thought continued, I thought to myself,
‘… Maybe that’s partially why I have a great immune system. All those shower make-outs building up my antibodies.’
** adds relatable unhinged moment to running list to see if anyone else did this **
(so yes, please respond and let me know if you made out with your shower walls as a kid, along with your level of kissing now on a scale from 1-5, so we can prove this theory 👅)
ANYWHO, as I’m sitting in the sauna today racking my brain on what topic I wanted to write on… it’s as if the writing Gods heard my plea and delivered to me the most ideal moment + life lesson, packaged neatly in a bow.
Before I tell you the story, I want to say: if you ever want a good laugh, just go to the local, commercial gym near your house and sit in the sauna at a busy time of day.
You are absolutely guaranteed to witness something, anything.
For context, I’ve been going to the same, local 24-Hour fitness for years now. On nearly every visit (which is 4-5x a week), I make sure to get a sauna session in before or after my workout.
(if you’re the curious kind, this is why I go)
After spending hours and hours of my life in this local sauna, I’ve seen just about everything there is to see and hear…
people arguing
girlfriends storming in and snatching their husbands/boyfriends/partners
people meditating (me doing a full-on yogi position)
people dancing, singing, stretching, crying, and attempting full-on HIIT workouts
being hit on in decent and awfully offensive ways
I had a man once tell me women are inferior to men
people laughing, talking shit, and making new friends
collective conversations about politics, COVID, and beyond
men in nothing but a speedo
most recently I saw a guy get, what I believe to be, a foot job in the spa (I kid you not I’m 90% sure that’s what was happening right before my eyes 🤢)
and of course, the people who just sit there and do nothing at all but sweat and mind their business
I’m not even shocked anymore if I’m being honest.
I think the only thing that could shock me at this point is absolute violence (which I pray never happens).
So today, I’m sitting there after my workout getting a good 15 minutes of sweat in and decompressing for my upcoming dental appointment.
Depending on how I’m feeling, sometimes I’ll bring my phone, sometimes I listen to music or meditations, other times I read, but today I was doing nothing. Just sitting with no sensory but the sweat collecting on my body, allowing myself to enjoy the quiet and stillness for a weeeee moment.
That is until Uncle Ricardo, who is clearly on roids with the ungodly size of his traps and biceps in proportion to his body, walks in abruptly.
To paint the scene, this sauna could probably pack in upwards of 20 people, uncomfortably but today there were 8 of us in there when Unc walked in.
(His name wasn’t actually Uncle Ricardo. I have no idea who he is or what his name is – I just envisioned that’s what his nephew might call him, so we’re going to roll with it)
He’s wearing those noise-canceling Beats headphones with volume/bass at FULL blast, and I say this because 1) I could hear the damn near hear the noise before he even opened the door and 2) When he asked if he could sit in front of me on the lower step, it was evident he couldn’t hear himself because his volume was at level 99 as he asked,
“CAN I SIT HERE!!?!??!"
This is when it got immediately interesting.
He sits down and begins singing/rapping/scatting??? LOUDLY.
I’m talking grown man, roided up, full volume, rapping with hand motions.
If he had any fucks to give, he was completely out of them today.
At first, I thought he was doing one of those boppity scats because only every 3 words sounded like it was a word. I thought,
‘Scat jazz? Interesting choice for Unc.’
I realized this was not the case after I deciphered him saying,
“And all my boys in Houston, Texas. Swangin' and bangin.”
If you’re not familiar with Houston chopped & screwed, let me put you on.
I looked around as he continued to yell (I kid you not, YELL) chopped & screwed lyrics as if he had no idea there were 8 other humans around him in a 9ft x 7ft space.
When I tell you the confusion I had when no one was phased. Not a single person was bothered.
Not the man in a deep state of stillness with no headphones in.
Not the woman casually scrolling on her phone.
Not the teenager chillin’ with his beats on (although he probably couldn’t even hear Unc tbh.)
I was doing my best to hold back giggles while simultaneously wondering if I’d make eye contact with anyone so we could telepathically translate to each other, “WTF???”
When that didn’t happen, it clicked. The life lesson was there, plain as day.
Unc Ricardo was completely unembarrassed, unbothered, and unphased, enjoying his jam session, and living his best life.
And indeed, no one cared.
No one was judging him, or if they were, they were so hot in that room they didn’t care to make it known.
It was evident he was vibing with himself and it was apparent to me that even if someone did think he was weird/ annoying/ silly for terribly rapping Chopped & Screwed music in the sauna, he didn’t care anyways. People’s opinions of him didn’t even cross his mind.
And all of a sudden, I LOVED THAT FOR HIM!!!!
The number of times I’ve been vibing and jamming and wanted to break into a full-on flash mob but don’t…
The number of times I’ve been embarrassed about something at the gym or anywhere else for fear of what people around me might think…
The number of times WE AS HUMANS get worked up about the potential things people might think about us when in reality, people are so consumed with themselves and their own potential embarrassment, that they could probably care less about you or me.
Isn’t that a gratifying feeling? A freeing one at that.
I put my judgment aside at that moment and secretly congratulated that man in my head for not caring what people think, for experiencing life in his unabashed way, and for quite frankly just doing him.
The next time you’re afraid of what people might think of you, I want you to remind yourself that it’s not that serious. People aren’t paying that much attention and if they are, so what?
You want to dance your butt off at the bar after a drink or two even though you know you’re a terrible dancer?
You want to show up more on your social media but you stumble over your words on video?
You want to dress in clothes that bring you joy but you’re not “in your best shape?”
You want to pick up a new hobby, join a cycling class, or sing a karaoke song, but you’re scared of what people might think if you mess up?
Or you just want to rap some damn DJ Screw out loud while your headphones are in?
NOBODY CARES!!! And I mean that in the best way possible.
There’s something about being carefree and happy in your skin that’s contagious (just ask me how I acted after I peed my pants on Bourbon Street and still proudly went out after I changed my daisy dukes and left my embarrassment on the same floor as my pee puddle).
Life is too short to be worried about what people think. Whether it’s chopped and screwed vibes in the sauna or following your dreams.
We could all learn a lesson or two from Uncle Ricardo, but my favorite one is this: being yourself is a whole lot more fun than doing (or not doing things) because of what other people might think of you.
Now head to the sauna this weekend, and let me know what you see ;)
Show yourself some love today,
You’ve earned it.
As always,
Taylor Torres
Hi, I'm Taylor Torres, accidental adulting expert and purveyor of all things unhinged. When I'm not navigating the rollercoaster of the real world, you can find me dishing out a weekly dose of humor, heart, and a dash of TMI right here in this little corner of the internet.
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