Don't ask: Borrowing my phone charger

What's better than one sequel to a popular series of blogposts? Several sequels. Which makes today your lucky day as yet one more post gets added to my outrageously successful Don't Ask series.

I assume you're already familiar with the classics (and if you're not, don't burst my bubble - just let me think you are): Don't Ask: Watching Your Stuff, Don't Ask: Working the Weekend, Don't Ask: Loaning You Money, Don't Ask: Writing a Letter For You, Don't Ask: Sharing a Hotel Room, Don't Ask: Picking Up at the Airport, and the perennial Don't Ask: Moving - one of the most popular and requested of all.

While several other series remain dormant on this blog, like Guilty Pleasures, Things I Was Wrong About, The Luckiest Actor Alive and Why I Love Costco, this particular series continues to flourish thanks to the fact there's just no end to the things I refuse to do.

Tonight's entry is Don't Ask: Borrowing my phone charger. Here's the thing: phone chargers used to be expensive, especially if you were buying them at the Apple store. So most people just have the one that comes with the phone, and stays at home. They either charge the phone overnight and hope it lasts, or depend on the kindness of others to loan them their chargers at work.

My charger-loaning kindness is at 0%.

Instead of absconding with my charger—and making me hunt you down to get it back—there's no reason you can't have a backup charger all your own to keep with you at all times. They sell them everywhere. From the checkout counter at CVS (next to the nail clippers) to the checkout line at Nordstrom Rack (next to the hair ties).

They come in all colors, lengths and not only do they improve how long your battery lasts, they also improve how long our friendship will last. Win-win.

Don't get me wrong: next time the battery icon in the upper right of your home screen is in the red, by all means do the sensible thing and ask if you can borrow someone's charger.

Just don't ask me.

Don't ask: Borrowing my brush

It's actually uncanny, but I know exactly what you're thinking.

You're saying to yourself, "I wonder whatever happened to that 'Don't Ask' series of posts Jeff used to put up. They were so good! So well-written! And really, really funny!"

"And he's so humble about them."

First of all, thank you. And second of all, when you're right you're right. I know the ones you mean.

Don't Ask: Watching Your Stuff.

Don't Ask: Working the Weekend.

Don't Ask: Loaning You Money

Don't Ask: Writing a Letter For You.

Don't Ask: Sharing a Hotel Room.

Don't Ask: Picking Up at the Airport.

And the perennial Don't Ask: Moving - to this day still one of the most popular and requested of all the random posts I've put up here.

Well the Don't Ask drought is over with this post. Let's drink deep shall we.

There are personal grooming and hygiene items that were never meant to be shared. For example, you wouldn't ask to borrow my toothbrush, because you know I'd mock you relentlessly in my award-winning* Don't Ask series of posts.

You could ask to use my favorite razor, but I'd never let you. What if you cut yourself? I don't know what kind of germs are spinning out of control in your bloodstream, and I want to make sure I never find out.

Along the same lines, that's why you're not going to use my brush. I don't know what's living in that head of hair you've got. Lice? Dust? Bad coloring? Out of state relatives? Whatever it is, I hope it likes there because that's where it's staying.

There's also the issue of cleaning my brush after you're done using it. Suddenly all that loose hair that would normally live in your sink for days on end is now setting up shop in my brush. No thanks.

I was going to post a picture of a used, dirty hair brush, but there are some things you don't need to see close up.

You may not appreciate it—I know I don't—but there's a reason I'm called the Silver Fox™. It's because my distinguished mane looks clean, full and stylish all the time. You know how it gets that way? After I apply a dime-size dab of style-holding product, I brush it several times a day.

With the brush you're not going to borrow. So don't ask.

*imaginary awards are still awards.

Don't ask: Loaning you money

From the series of posts that brought you Don't ask: Sharing a hotel room, Don't ask: Picking up at the airport and the wildly popular Don't ask: Moving, now comes the one you've all been waiting for.

Money's a touchy issue with most people. In my experience, friends don't like to talk about it when they have too much, and they don't like to talk about it when they have too little.

You know when I don't like to talk about it? When you're asking me for some.

I don't mean to sound like I've never loaned friends money, I have. But the whole, "You remember you owe me some money?" "Oh yeah, yeah, I have some cash coming in soon and I'll get it to you..." dynamic is never a comfortable exchange. And in my experience, that cash coming in usually arrives around the 12th of never.

I remember one time, out of the goodness of my heart, I loaned a friend $250 to pay his rent. A few months went by - months I should mention where I never said a word about the money - and he finally sold something, got a job or whatever. He told me how happy he was, because he was able to pay back all the people who'd loaned him money. Then he started listing names and, I know this will come as a shock, he didn't mention mine.

Whether it's professionally or especially personally, I don't like chasing my money down.

There's also something that rubs me the wrong way about the assumption I have money just lying around to loan to friends in need. I wish that were the case. But the fact is I have a wife, two kids and a German Shepherd. I'm not naming names, but two of them have college coming up, one of them needs his shots and I have an anniversary with one of them in the near future.

Any money I had, have or will have is already spoken for well into the foreseeable future.

Again, don't mean to sound unsympathetic. I understand the price of everything is sky high. Jobs are shaky and in short supply. Bank accounts are red-lining.

All I can say is if you need a little cash to hold you over, you should check between the couch cushions. Or the car seats. Raid the kids piggy bank. Dip into the penny jar.

And if all that fails, remember, there's no shame in calling for help.

Just as long as you're not calling me.