It’s probably a word I’d have to really get used to if I was a confetti nose sneezer: you know the type of person I’m talking about, right? The kind that, every time they sneeze, multi-colored flecks of paper go shooting out and up into the air around said confetti nose sneezer? The kind of person who is always a distraction at funerals and corporate retreats and important stock holder meetings? The kind of person who, while their allergies are acting up, is also like a party waiting to happen?
Man. If only that was me.
“Collecting garbage is a noble career,” I might say.
And then while I leaned down behind my desk (where I’d purposely dropped a pen and a handful of paperclips just so I could hide my face for a moment) I would smile a smile so wide it would keep me satiated far better than food ever would. It would make me giddy and happy and I would be laughing a laugh so laughable inside that my lower intestines would grow muscles from the constant exercise.
Yes, being an evil high school guidance counselor would be extremely rewarding.
Here’s what would suck.
More than having a real-time, sharp-edged axe stuck in the side of your skull (you’ve seen these people on the news who get arrows and other things shot into their head and miss all the major organs and are able to survive with them stuck there, so don’t say you haven’t) would be having a plastic axe fused to the side of my head instead.
Because everyone who would see me and would feel the axe would be all like, “Oh, ha ha. That’s a plastic axe stuck in your head!! You’re such a card, Pauly.” And then I would be all like, “Yeah, but don’t laugh. It’s still stuck in my head. I’m going to have to have some kind of major surgery or something to remove it.” And then they’d be all like, “Dude, it’s a plastic axe. C’mon, take that thing out and let’s go to Subway.” And I’d be all like, “I can’t take this thing out, it’s fused to my head! This is serious!” And they’d be all like, “Paul. Didn’t you ever hear the story of the little boy who cried wolf?” And I’d be all like, “Uh, YEAH. And this is not ME pretending to have an axe stuck in the side of my head, okay?” And they’d be all like, “Plastic. Key word. Now, c’mon Steve Martin. Take that thing off your head and let’s go get lunch.” And I’d be all like, “B-b-but wait! I really have to go to the E.R.!” And they’d be all like, “I am SO tired of your crap, Pauly. I’ll see you later.”
But if it were a real, sharp metal axe?
Totally different reaction.
First of all, I’d stop shaking hands.
But not shaking hands would totally make people start to wonder if I just didn’t like them anymore. “He used to shake my hand all the time and now he’s not,” they’d say to their friends. “I wonder if I did something to make him angry at me.”
Yeah, shaking hands would have to stop.
Boomboxes are sort of over.
I mean, with everyone so obsessed with iPODs and other small devices that play their MP3s, we’re left in a society where boomboxes are sort of the 8-track tapes of the last decade — leaving people like me, if I was in the movie Say Anything with quite an intriguing conundrum. For if I wanted to woo a woman, from beneath her bedroom window, at three in the morning — what would I do?
What. Would. I. Do?
Know that I’m not living in a dreamworld here, thinking that I was actually in the classic 80’s flick Say Anything. But know that since the real world often mirrors the events in famous movies — there are guys out there who are looking for ways to steal back women that they have wronged by using those classic “aww” moments from classic “aww” movies.