Thursday, June 20, 2013

No Really, I'm Better than You

So I did the math, and there are two ways to pass judgement, right? There's the whole judge a book by its cover, or you can, uh, like judge someone/something by its/their words and actions. But, words speak louder than actions?

Is that three things?

What I'm really trying to say's getting really hard to tell if I'm better than other people. And more importantly—it's getting harder to prove to other people that I'm better than them. Or at least prove to myself that I'm proving that to them.

Remember in all the 80s and early-90s films when the poor kid was embarrassed because they had a job at the Dairy Queen or the crappy corner store—or maybe their parents owned the place—so they hid from the rich kid who didn't have to work? I mean I get it. Because, like, if I'm eating a cheesewurst outside of a gas station in rural Colorado at 2:00 a.m. and I've spilled mustard down the pajamas I've been driving and sleeping in for 1,700 miles, how do I make sure everyone else at the gas station knows I'm not one of them? 

How do the other people who sleep in Walmart parking lots in their car know I'm better than them?

And the other people who sponge-bathe in Firestone Tires bathrooms—how do they know? And when you go to your liquor store—the one in the really awful neighborhood because they sell a 1.75 of Beefeater for $19.99—and you always manage to be wearing yoga leggings, a top knot and do they know? 

And sure, you may not yet be purchasing only a bottle of Squirt and two 3 oz. bottles of Bacardi. But your total is $39.97, and you are leaving with ten bottles of how do you let them know? 

How do you let them know that you're not one of them?


Your comments are why I get out of bed in the morning. Just kidding. But I do like them.