So Close, And Yet…

     I’m a cool guy.

    No, wait.  Hear me out.

    I’ve been thinking about this.  And I have determined, after many, many years, I am finally COOL.  And I can prove it.

    First.  I have my own place.  And it’s not in my parents’ basement.

    Second.  I have a car.  And it starts.  Every time.

    Third.  I can stay up as late as I want.

    Fourth.  I can buy beer.

    Fifth.  I have had sex, and, God-willing, will have it again.

    So there.

    Cool.  That’s me.

    Oh sure, all of this comes twenty years too late to do me any good.  But, if I could ever get past security at the local high school, I’d claim my rightful place at the cool kids’ table.  And don’t worry about me, I’m quite adept at ignoring sideways glances and snarky comments.  It may surprise some of you to find out I’ve dealt with those before.

    High school finally conquered, I’ll turn my attentions to my current status, and see where I stand.  As it turns out, the litmus test for “Cool” changes as you get older.

    Question #1.  Dental plan?  Answer.  Does keeping your fingers crossed count?

    Question #2.  High paying job?  Answer.  Job?  No comprendez.

    Question #3.  401k?  Answer.  See #1.

    Question #4.  German import?  Answer.  Do the Germans make Hondas?

    Question #5.  Vacation home.  Answer.  I have a bonus room.  And internet porn.  So I’ll count this as a “Yes.”

    Okay.  That could have gone better.  Perhaps I’ll just start getting ready for the future.  If I plan now, maybe I can be cool in my seventies.

    Question #1.  Bladder control?  Answer.  I’m doing my Kegel’s right now.

    Question #2.  Erection?  Answer.  See #1, and internet porn.

    Question #3.  Health insurance?  Answer.  Working on Canadian citizenship as we speak.

    Question #4.  Outspoken disdain for those “damn kids?”  Answer.  Ahead of the game, captain.

    Question #5.  Fondness for post-meal naps?  Answer.  Roger that.

    Past and present I’ve pretty well given up on, but the future is looking bright.  Maybe, if you’re real lucky, I’ll let you park your Rascal at my table in the retirement home.

    Maybe.     

Dear Grumpy,

I have a question about guys.  You see, I went to a dance (which was a mistake - high school dances suck) and met a guy there.  He seemed ok, apart from seeming to think I appreciated being lifted up without warning.  But, the next day at school, I started hearing less than flattering stories about this guy, and I saw him in daylight.  He also took to following me home from school and showing up unannounced at my house on weekends.  I told him to give me space, but it didn't work.  How can I get him to leave me alone, without causing my murder or his suicide?

Sincerely,
A Person With an Annoying Stalker

Dear APWAAS,

Let me congratulate you on seeing the light regarding high school dances.  The only women who might enjoy them are bitter divorcees with a penchant for inexperienced males.

I appreciate your concern for your well-being with regards to shedding yourself of this stalker, but I must say that his potential suicide is, at best, tangential to your predicament.  In fact, it would solve your problem.  I'm not saying you should cause his suicide, but if it happens, hey, c'est la vie.  (Joke intended.)

Having shown interest in a high school male, you have set yourself up for this.  I'm not blaming you.  Just stating a fact.  You have a few options.  If you have a neighbor with a new baby, introduce the child as your own.  (Caveat: This may only serve as evidence that you put out, so use with caution.)  Go lesbo.  Sure, you might have to switch schools, but everything has a cost.  Tell him you have a penis.  Tell him you only date guys who do drugs.  His ensuing addiction will take care of the problem.  Get the class homosexual to start hanging out with him, a lot.  He'll leave school out of self defense.

One of those should work.  And I hope you've learned your lesson.  No good can come from high school dances.

Hope that helps,

Grumpy

Dear Ez,

Listen.  You've got a lot anger here.  Did a roving gang of fatties do something to you?  Or is it just this girl?  Did you have an unfortunate hook-up that she won't let go of?

Just asking.

The world is to worried about not upsetting people.  If you want someone to leave you alone, piss them off.  Sure, there will be consequences, but you can't let that stop you.  You've got to stand strong, Ez.  Did Washington worry about pissing off the British?  Did Stalin worry about pissing off the farmers when he slaughtered them for resisting?  Did Mary Jo Poniak worry about pissing me off when she refused to give me a hand job in Chemistry class?

No.

Hope that helps,

Grumpy

Dear Readers,

Recently, my inbox has been flooded with letters of concern.  I would like to extend a public and heartfelt "Thank You" to each and everyone of you for you kind words and thoughtfulness.  It is truly appreciated, and a refreshing change in a world sadly known for selfish beings and uncaring cads.

However, I can assure that I do not have Erectile Dysfunction, and, based on the latest research, I do not have a tiny penis.

I love hearing from you.  But these emails, while thoughtful, are simply unnecessary.

Thank you,

Grumpy