Ed Decker: How to Respond to Ugly Facebook Messages

Straight-up with a Twist

By Edwin Decker

Dear SWAT, One of the many complications COVID has brought into my life is that I am drinking at home and arguing on social media more than ever. This is a bad combination because the more I drink, the more aggressive and insulting I become. I tell myself to stop doing it, but once I catch a buzz it’s almost impossible not to engage. Any recommendations on how to quit doing this?

Devon,
San Diego

Dear Devon, indeed, I do have a recommendation. I don’t use Twitter much, but I have certainly done my fair share of FacedBooking. And it has gotten ugly: Angry messages flying back and forth; unfriendings piling up; and scoldings from onlookers who rightfully put me in my place.

“Damn dude, did you really have to tell that guy he was the offspring of a spiny lumpsucker and a retarded fungus beetle? That’s low, even for you.”

So yeah, I too vowed to quit FacedBooking— as well as Drunkstagramming, Stumblr-ing, drunxting and the rest. But when I’m all liquored up—and a response comes in from some blathering brain clot calling me a dumbass because, “The spiny lumpsucker is a member of the Tetraodontiformes order and would never mate with a beetle!”— well it is impossible not to return fire. Largely because I immediately start thinking about all the brilliant points I’m about to unleash. And those brilliant ideas will swarm above my head like wasps until they get written down. However, I have learned that the Brilliance Wasps don’t really care if the ideas get posted, they only need be written—to prevent me from losing any ingenious thoughts to the abyss of my upcoming blackout.

So if the Wasps of Your Brilliance start swirling, go ahead and write that comeback. When you’re done, instead of posting it, simply email it to yourself. Not sure if this will help you, but it is how I am able to smoke the hive into a temporary state of quietude. The next day, when the alcohol in my veins has been displaced by three coffees and a hit of ammonium carbonate, I review the email to make sure it is safe to post. And let me tell you, every single time I read those emails, I think, Brilliance Wasps my ass! It’s more like a colony of ad-hominem ants:

“Oh yeah, Tom, well you are so dumb you make lumpsuckers look like marine biologists, dummy-face!

Ed Decker selfie

Sincerely, Ed, The Crusher of Imbeciles.”

Instead, I would rewrite it into something more respectful, on point and intelligible:

“With respect Tom, that is not true. The lumpsucker is of the order of Scorpaeniformes which have been known to lie with beetles.

Sincerely, Ed, The ‘Let’s-Agree-to-Disagree’ Guy.”

Thanks for the letter, Devon, let me know if it works.

From the Facebook: Dear Ed, How does having to order a $5 corn dog stop me from getting Covid when drinking at my local pub?

Jack Williams, San Diego

To be honest, Jack, this really isn’t the kind of query I had in mind for this column. What you are asking (satirically I gather) requires more of an opinion/rant whereas I was hoping for more traditional “advice”-type questions such as, “How should I tell my roommate I’m sleeping with his girlfriend?” or “What’s the best poison to feed my neighbor’s chihuahua?” Think Dear Abby without the class, expertise or tact.

That said, I do have burning thoughts about this so, to answer your question—they don’t. Neither corn dogs—nor any other kind of food—have magical COVID-blocking properties. As I understand it, the reasoning behind requiring a pub to serve food comes down to the notion of “Essential” products and services. Given that food, if corn dogs qualify, is needed to sustain human life, it has been determined as essential. As for the joints that don’t serve it, well piss of wankers—consider yourself useless.

This is bunk. And one way we know it is bunk is because of the workaround. There are several pubs operating in San Diego that do not have kitchens but have teamed up with neighboring restaurants to serve their food. I have no problem with this, per se, but my question is, how does this system add to the net amount of food available to the public? If the point of allowing food sellers to stay open is to make sure there’s enough for everyone, well why can’t those customers just get that food directly from the restaurant next door? Why do they even need to go to the bar? Allowing the bar to stay open because their servers walk the meal over from somewhere else hardly amounts to an increase in food availability.

Again, I’m not saying this because I oppose the system. I’m glad they are open. I am merely pointing out the absurd nature of this, and so many other, lockdown regulations.

Here’s another example. I was passing a cigar lounge I like to frequent during normal times but has been closed for a while now. I was surprised to see they were open so walked in to hopefully enjoy a Romeo y Julieta and some coldies. After talking to the proprietor, I learned they were able to re-open because they put in one of those little, glass, pizza warmers. They don’t cook the pizza mind you. They just buy a couple of pies from nearby, put’em in the warmer, and mandate every customer order at least one slice.

Again, no increase in the net food availability. Just grab a seat, order a slice, woof it down in five minutes and spend the next three hours smoking and drinking and chatting with regulars. The only difference between this lounge and a bar that is shuttered is a five-minute pizza break. It’s ridonkulous.

Edwin Decker (of Ocean Beach) is not a licensed therapist or psychologist. In fact, his only qualification is the 25-plus years as a bartender listening to the liver-aching of desperados and dipsomaniacs. Heed his advice at your peril.

Send questions to ed@edwindecker.com