I Fail at Life

Sometimes, when trying to sculpt what is and what will become my life, it feels like I’m trying to sculpt the Michaelangelo with Play-Doh. Granted, I could probably make the most kick ass neon green, possibly-edible sculpture you’ve ever seen, but that’s not the point. The point is that I am unlucky and because of my unluckiness my life is a constant failure.

Like at my job. Last year I got an extra $5,000 a year raise which was very sweet and much needed. Then, a month later, it was taken away, and only afterwards were we told about it. We were not warned about this. It was just taken. It’s like walking into a public bathroom, flushing the toilet, and getting hit in the face with toilet water, and only as you walk out do you see a big sign on the back of the door that says ‘Warning, toilet water may hit you in the face.” Frankly, it’s the story of my life.

I also hate authority. I didn’t used to, and I’m not sitting here like James Dean slicking back my hair with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth thinking I’m such a rebel, I just mean that I’ve never had a good experience with them. Ever. In the past 2 years I’ve gotten 3 B.S. tickets that had to go to court. Now granted, I’ve done my fair share of stupid crap, don’t get me wrong, but these were 3 instances where I was doing absolutely nothing wrong. The first one I got pulled over for, the car in front of me was screwing around and squealed its tires, and the cop pulled me over. He didn’t listen to a word I said (both cars were red, that’s the only similarity) and I had to hire a $1000 lawyer just to prove my innocence otherwise I would have lost my license. I’m glad that to prove I did nothing wrong I had spend $1000 of my own money that I can never get back.

The second time I got pulled over it’s because I was driving home in the center lane and a car full of teenagers pulled right out in front of me. I tried to brake, but I never would have made it in time, so I jerked on the wheel and flew into the other lane. Well, a cop saw that and ONLY that, so he pulled me over because he thought I was trying to cut them off. I calmly explained that I wasn’t, but he was a complete dick and would have nothing of it, so he gave me a ticket that I had to take to court. Now, I didn’t have $1000 to spend on this (imagine that), so the best I could do was a meeting with the DA who said that based on me cutting someone off in a fit of rage (as she would not listen to me either, I mean why would anyone listen to me when they can make their own asinine assumptions) said I had to take a class for road rage. In fact, that’s tonight. I have to go on a Friday night and sit around with a bunch of angry caveman chub monkeys because it was either that or spend $1000 I didn’t have to prove myself innocent.

Lastly, I was in Denver a couple weeks back trying to meet up with a group of friends who said they were all in a certain parking lot. I was lost, trying to  find it, and just when I think I found it, I pull in. Only after I pull in do I  notice I’m going the wrong way in, so I pull around, and just as I’m about to leave I get pulled over. I thought I was just going to get a warning, as I explained that I’m lost and I didn’t see a sign until after I went in, which is why I just flipped around to leave, but nope, this guy was a little 98 lb soaking wet prick with little man’s syndrome who did the worst thing of all. Not only did he give me a ticket, but he acted like he was doing me a FAVOR for only giving me a 2 point ticket instead of a 4 pointer because apparently failure to yield to road signs is a 4 point ticket. He also laughed and said  that a lot of people go in the wrong way in that parking lot and that’s why he was sitting there. Gee dumbass, maybe that means people don’t notice it until it’s too late and you should do something about it. But then again, pencil dick has to make his $30,000 a year somehow. God forbid he be down the street stopping one man for shooting another man in a fit of road rage because he took his parking space.

So I’m not mad at pencil dick for doing his job. If I was him spending my Saturday patrolling an empty parking lot I’d probably kill myself or take up homosexuality. But what’s worst is that this is the first time I was ever pulled over in my Mustang, so when someone sees my kickass sports car, and they ask, “So, you ever been pulled over in that thing?” I can’t boast, “Yeah, got pulled over for doing a buck sixty down I-25″ or “Yeah, got pulled over for roasting the tires on a side street.” Nope, I get to say, “Yeah, I got pulled over for going the wrong way in a parking lot.” That may very well be the gayest sentence I’ve ever had to utter in my life.

Lastly, I’m also unlucky in love, because hey, if I can’t be happy in money or with donut munching waste-of-space traffic cops, why should I be happy in true love either?

Women in general ignore me because I am a nice guy. It does not matter that I work out every day and have an attractive physique to show for it, it does not matter that I have a very successful job or my own apartment, it does not matter that I have manners and I’m polite, because I am a nice guy and by default women have decided they must ignore me. On the other hand, if I was an out of shape, out of work, car-less, arrogant douchebag living in his parents’  basement, I could get a girl like nobody’s business. Because they are magically attracted to assholes.

Maybe I should give in and start acting like a complete dick. If you were a Seinfeld watcher in the 90’s like I was, you remember The Summer of George in which George Costanza decides to do the complete opposite of every  natural instinct he has, and because of it he gets a gorgeous girl and a job with the New York Yankees. So from now on when I see a woman instead of asking how she is I’ll tell her she looks fat. Or if a woman tells me she has a problem instead of asking her what the matter is and consoling her I’ll tell her to stop crying like a baby and bake me a pie. Or if she talks about how her boyfriend is a dick and doesn’t know what to do about it instead of telling her for the eight millionth time that she should dump him and get a nice guy (but she never does), I’ll just punch her in the face and tell her to get her ass back in the kitchen. I might even start calling her ‘woman.’ I also need to practice my cocky smile–you know, that kind of shit-eating grin you just want to slap the instance you see it. It’s foolproof. I’ll have to beat them off of me with a stick. Literally. I will physically beat them with a stick.

You know, in the grand scheme of things, I probably won’t do it. I’m a nice guy to the core or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment. Also, I know things aren’t really THAT bad, and I’d never complain that they are, so don’t jump down my throat about the starving children in Africa because I know they’ve got it worse than I do. I’m just unlucky and wanted to share about it. So if you’ll excuse me, I have a long night of making love to a beautiful woman ahead of me. No, wait, I don’t, actually I’m going to a ‘road rage’ class and then watching cartoon network until 1 in the morning and going to bed. Yee hah.