Do you know that this past Saturday, there were several thousand douchebags dressed like you, wandering around New York in drunken packs, blocking the sidewalks and puking in the street? They must have learned this from you.
You need to be a better role model.
Don’t get shitfaced in West Village college bars, don’t roofie girls dressed as elves, and wash that damn, grimy, matted red suit once in a decade. Maybe these turds will follow your example by cleaning themselves and staying home.
Also…now that I’ve made you feel tiny and worthless, my requests:
For Christmas, I don’t want any stuff. I have so much fucking stuff. The closets don’t close in here. There are sweaters under my bed in plastic Container Store bins. The jewelry’s all tangled up because I’ve had to put another layer on top of the nice, organized layer I just arranged about a month ago.
Please give me things that don’t take up any room. I’ve made a quick wishlist off the top of my head. I’ll probably add more in the next week.
Here’s what I want this year:
A bottomless metabolism.
I’d never get tired of that or give it to Goodwill. Can you imagine, never having to think about calories? Maybe you can. I have a friend or two who can eat anything, and I’m so jealous I can barely look them in the eye. If I had that superpower, I’d be like Garfield and eat lasagna all day, alternated with ice cream and cookie dough. And I’d barely need any clothes, because just jeans and a t-shirt would hang so gracefully. That would be my uniform, and I’d accessorize it with different necklaces. I’d need a lot of t-shirts because they’d get lasagna stains on them, but they’re cheap.
I’ve always wanted the power to disappear so I could do two things:
1. Eavesdrop. I’m really nosy, and people tend to hush their voices when they can tell I’m listening. I don’t want them holding back. Whether they’re strangers or friends, I want to hear everyone’s private conversations. Especially the arguments. I love confrontations that don’t involve me.
If I can’t have invisibility, I might settle for that device I’ve seen on TV that gives you sonic hearing. The ad shows how it lets you hear people on the beach complimenting your body from like 40 feet away. So not only would I get to hear them fighting, but I’d get to hear them say “Wow, look at that hot skinny chick in the bikini stuffing her face with lasagna. How does she do it?”
2. Take the empty seats in First Class. If no one can see you there, you can’t get kicked out. I realize this is a flawed plan. No one has ever really resolved what happens to clothes and stuff like that when you’re invisible. If they don’t turn invisible with you, then you have to take them off and sit nude in an airplane seat. Even in First Class, not advisable. Plus, what about the cushy, down blanket? That would show the shape of the person underneath it. And what am I gonna do, not use the blanket? That’s one of the best things in First Class. It’s luxurious and (allegedly) sterile. Also, if you’re invisible, no one takes your order for the gourmet meal.
So there are still some kinks to be worked out with the flying part.
I want to create an internet startup that sells for hundreds of millions. That’s really all I need. It doesn’t have to be billions. I need enough for luxurious trips, a bigger home, another home somewhere warm, presents for people who do want stuff, a pony for my nephew, and unlimited lasagna. So very high 7 figures will do nicely. I know how to sell my writing services, but it takes a different kind of mind to start a big company that gets purchased in a bidding war. Or maybe my mind would be adequate if I just had more tech skills. That’s fixable. I’m going to look up “how to develop a hugely popular app and turn it into a fortune” on ehow. So, Santa, scratch that one. I’ll figure it out online.
I’d like to be able to taze people, such as packs of boozey, asshole santas, from across the street. The electricity would shoot out of my eyes. No one would ever know it was me.
To anyone who thinks I’m selfish:
I am. Also, scores of people already have peace on earth on their wish lists, so I don’t need to cover it.
To my husband:
I still want the stuff you get me, because you have really good taste. Thanks!