When I’m 80, I’ll probably hate you. You’ll most likely annoy the fuck out of me when I’m at Denny’s even though I tried to avoid you by going to dinner at 4 p.m., and you’ll probably even let your yappy dog shit on my lawn every morning and then never pick it up. Come to think of it, I already hate you and I’m only 28. I blame this premature hatred on all the shitty people the waitress has sat me next to at Denny’s and all my neighbors who don’t pick up after their dogs.
Most of my friends say I’m way too young to think and behave this way. Eric told me I should be positive about old age and Leslie told me that people don’t try to annoy me on purpose so I should give them a break. My friends are clowns. And they just made the list early. So far it reads: 1) loud Denny’s customers, 2) dogs who shit on my lawn, 3) asshole neighbors who let their dogs shit on my lawn, 4) Eric, and 5) Leslie. I expect this list to grow exponentially over the years.
I have a lot of pent-up anger about people, so I became a stand-up comedian a few years ago when I finished school. It was the only way I could think to release my unhealthy amounts of rage straight to your face without you throwing things at me… because they’re just “jokes.” And you even have to pay me $20 to sit there while I stand up on stage and explain to you all the reasons why I hate you. Idiots…
Last year, after one of my shows, this woman from the audience came up to me and asked why I acted like such a bitter old man.
“Because people suck,” I told her. “Because I’m tired of picking up dog shit when I don’t even have a dog.”
That answer usually doesn’t satisfy people’s curiosity. I guess it’s not a good enough reason for me to actively practice such widespread hatred of the human population. Which is precisely why I’m excited to be 80. By that age, my bad attitude about life will be well-deserved; I will have lived long enough to be annoyed by all kinds of crap and my hostility will finally be justified. As I hear you annoying teenagers say these days, it’s going to be fucking lit.
Speaking of teenagers, I definitely hate all of you. Somehow your generation managed to invent a new language and I’m not sure whether or not to be impressed by this communication epidemic. Mostly I’m bothered by it, though, because I have no idea what any of you are saying. I’m not even that much older, but somehow half the stuff you say goes over my head. What makes it worse is that new words are constantly coming into play and then they’re considered outdated within a few months. That’s not how a language should work, people! Even slang stays relevant longer than the crap you come up with.
Do any of you even know the origin of all the words you start to use? Like what makes your eyebrows “on fleek” anyways? One time I asked this stock boy at the market if there was any more whole grain bread in the back and he replied with “Hundo p, my man” before flying off to fetch it. Like what the fuck. This guy left me in the dust not knowing if that meant “yes” or “no.”
And I’ve also noticed there’s an acronym for everything now. Apparently, life’s too short to say “very insane” or “pretty cool” – you must say “v insane” and “p cool” instead. Not to mention “af” that’s tacked onto the end of every sentence. I don’t have the energy to “stay woke, fam.” I’m v sorry.
Note to self: add 6) teenagers (especially hipsters) to list.
I haven’t been living under a rock or anything either, but it’s honestly too much work to keep up with all these new phrases that keep popping up. My solution to this language barrier is simple: Don’t fraternize with the enemy. If I don’t talk to you, you can’t confuse me. Works like a charm most days.
Sometimes I agree with people when they tell me I shouldn’t feel so old at 28, but people make it difficult to feel young and relevant. I can’t keep up with all you fitness fanatics or spend a million hours perfecting an Instagram post or go on those extreme raw juice detox cleanses that are supposed to rejuvenate your soul or whatever. It’s time-consuming enough just to keep on top of the newly developing technology.
When did staying youthful become so fashionable? I’ve seen some 55-year-old women whose faces and bodies look like a 30-year-olds. But you can’t fool me — I see the old age in your eyes and the exhaustion of trying to remain young in the way you walk… as if you wish you had a cane to help stabilize yourself but know it would destroy your street cred if you bought one. Give it up already, Wendy, because soon enough the years will catch up with you and you’ll regret all those cane-free steps you took fearing the next one would land you on the ground and all those disgusting wheat grass shots you pounded back in your sad attempt to defy your skin’s natural aging process.
Personally, I think it’s a smarter investment to embrace old age. It feels more instinctual than trying to stay young-looking forever.
I’ll admit it can be nice to stay in touch with a youthful and positive outlook on life… sunshine and rainbows and what not… and maybe even nice to retain the capacity to utilize your body’s ability to move around on its own. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m looking forward to the day when I become immobile, rather simply excited for the day when people understand that I’m too old to give a rat’s ass.
You can’t get me to drink kale smoothies because it’s “healthy for me” or because “it keeps you looking and feeling fresh.” It tastes like death — I tried it once just to make sure the woman who suggested it was a moron. She was.
Note to self: add 7) Deborah (and anyone else who serves and/or drinks kale smoothies) to list.
With every wrinkle and age spot comes a life story. And I’m not trying to cover those up with kale like you. So the more I resemble a prune when I’m older, the better.