You guys dodged a bullet.
Now, I know I'm not the most popular writer on the internet. Hell, I'm probably not even the thousandth most popular writer on the internet. I like to think I'm in the top ten thousand, but even that may be pushing it.
At any rate, I'm assuming that those of you who come here enjoy reading me. And for that I thank you. There are literally tens of thousands of you and I think that is fucking awesome. Hell, the fact that anyone besides my family and friends read me is amazing.
At yet another rate, I have an awesome boss. Though I am technically an associate of a multi-billion dollar, stuffy, conservative firm, I work for one man who owns his own business, which means that unless I commit fraud or a felony, only one man can fire me. And he doesn‘t particularly want to because he's awesome as fuck. I am a lucky man.
But, as goes all things corporate, I am getting ready to advance, to climb up the ladder and eventually achieve either a) business ownership or b) a corporate position. I was scheduled to interview for that corporate position on Tuesday, but they pulled the job offer because the person hiring for that position is now quitting, and it makes no sense having any person work under someone who they did not initially covet. I get that.
And here's what you guys get: a few more months of me.
You see, one day I will get a corporate position and when that day comes I will no longer be able to write on the internet under my own name and that's a shame.
Because I really like you people.
And, in honor of my stay of execution that you never knew was coming, I'm telling another quick, pointless story (what can I say? That's my style):
Last night, Lila (my girlfriend) and a friend of hers took me to a comedy club. I like comedy clubs but I kind of knew Wednesday night comics usually suck. As we approached the Dude who Decides where we Sit, he smiled alarmingly.
“Y'all belong up front,” he said.
“Awesome,” said Lila.
“And the hits just keep on coming,” I said.
I knew bad things would happen and they did.
The final comedian was one of those guys who spends his whole act working the crowd, and I am one of those guys who spends the last act in a comedy club double-fisting glasses of whiskey. The comedian noticed this and said to me, “Dude, I want your life. You're double-fisting glasses of whiskey and sitting with two beautiful women? What the hell is your secret?”
Now, I am about as shy as a hurricane, so I ended up talking to the comedian pretty much the rest of the act and I kept giving him shit for working the crowd too much, which he finally stopped doing (though he referenced me as he actually provided us with a few bits). Also, every time he used a bit that was blatantly stolen from a more popular comedian, I would yell out that comic's name. Let's just say that a lot of comics are still fans of the late Bill Hicks.
At any current rate of exchange, after the show, a couple members of the audience asked me how often I came to that comedy club and when I'd be back. I told them I wasn‘t sure when I'd be back, but that if I do, I'm not sitting in the front ever again.
After all, I just don't want to sit in a place where a man can get singled out for sitting with two hot chicks and double-fisting whiskey.
That's just not who I am.