I envy you. I do. It’s not only the fact that you don’t have a day job or that you live in a neighborhood that I will never be able to afford or that your six-pack is totally popping and that you look like some kind of pale Adonis. No, it’s none of those. It’s that you don’t have that little voice in your head that tells you, “Hey, bro, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.” It’s that twinge of conscience that keeps average sheeple like us from doing things like, I don’t know, deciding to run in the most congested part of the city at literally the most congested time when there are parks with designated running lanes just a few blocks away (maybe you could run there; wouldn’t that be boss?).
However, you don’t stop there, do you? Why would you? So on top of behaving as if you are the master of the sidewalk, the grand czar of city concrete, you then have the audacity to complain about the fact that there are people in your way as you try to run down a commercial avenue at the exact time these selfish people, millions of them, flood the area to get to work.
Yes, I envy that you can do this. You’re like the action hero who walks out of the exploding building and doesn’t have to turn around to see how badass it is. You know how badass it is. You know how badass you are. You’re just like that, only instead of an exploding building you are not bothering to look at the millions of people who have to go to work, and can’t just crush it for a living.
I envy that. I envy the fact that you just do not seem to care how you look while you’re working so hard to make yourself look good.
