a lesson baby nice guy will have to learn the hard way
lesson: to whichever floor mr nice guy rides the elevator of life, he gets shafted.
want proof? oh mr nice guy has proof for you! mr nice guy has 7,500 blazing orange mocking flags of proof! the gates are here for 16 days. thanks, christo and jean-claude. thanks a lot. oh sure, the gates are stunning. they're beautiful. the first major public art display of the new century is, in the words of the new york times, "pure joy." OH YEAH? not for mr nice guy it ain't!
look! this is the view that one of mr nice guy's officemates has. to protect my colleague's anonymity, i will call this person "titface." check out what titface sees when titface looks out of titface's window:
not my view
not bad! quite beautiful, actually. front row seat to a major happening! stunning, in fact. peaceful, yet simultaneously awe-inspiring. hell, even when the gates aren't there, titface still has a perfect year-round view of central christfucking park.
and now look at this! this is what mr nice guy, your maligned hero, sees when he looks out his grimy window (mind you he sits no more than 15 yards around the corner and down the hall from titface):
gorgeous, right? front row seat to a fucking construction site. a festering, herpetic eyesore. soul-destroying megalopolitan banality.
so what else is there to conclude? if only my child were here! i would tell it this: "sweet beautiful babe. the world has it out for your old man and, let's face it, you too. it's in your genes. deal with it, loser."
ps: titface, please don't tell HR i called you titface on my interblog.