The plot twist in this story?
Stella and I wish we were you: Sensitive, self-aware, intelligent, courageous.
Sure, we’re calm and good looking. Sure, bellhops bend to our every whim, if there is such a thing as a bellhop anymore. Sure, we can titter and deer-in-the-headlights our way to free drinks. Sure, we can live with the combination flattery and fear of stumbling across traps in enchanted forests. But we live in constant fear of one half of our entire personality disappearing, at the merest whimsy of the Norns.
I mean, one long evening featuring Jager-bombs, frumpy koalas, and my arch-nemesis who chose today for the acid, and, what? Suddenly all I have going for me is sanity. I would have to LEARN to DO something, like kidnap operatic sopranos and teach them to perform the product of my life’s obsession. Which is fine if you’re life’s obsession is songwriting, but my life’s obsession is sitting at coffee shops and reading. Phantom of the Corner Cafe doesn’t have quite the potential for the musical numbers, you know? I mean, like, imagine the scenarios. “There’s beard hair in my latte,” might, possibly, have enough soul angst to serve as a subject for an aria, at a push. Or “I was reading this paperback I found, but then it began to rain outside,” could be the main tune, if I found the right scorer to harmonize it. But that’s sort of exhausting the subject matter of my life. The whole thing would really be a lot of sitting still and avoiding eye contact with people who seem half familiar.
It’s a real concern.
No, we wish we were you. You’re such a man! With your many redeeming qualities! Someone we want around for the sake of your humanity.
Because what are unicorns, ultimately? Eh?
I’ll tell you what they are: Unoffensive. Good looking enough not to irritate the eye-holes, well-groomed enough not to irritate the nose-holes, polite enough not to irritate the ear-holes, probably clever enough with cardamom and oregano not to irritate the mouth-holes, and we’ll bring your blood pressure down if you pet us.
And you can pretty much say exactly the same thing about a really good sandwich. And of the two, I know which one you can get down the street for $7.68, if you know what I mean.
No, you have it much better than we do, mate.