OUR WORLD:

It’s Monday and, guys, it’s only gonna get better.  Keep that in mind as you trudge your weekend-fat ass through the snow (yeah, it is snowing in Chicago) to work today because it can’t get worse than a bad weather Monday AND you have food poisoning (just me? I’m not really sure what food poisoning is, but anytime I have real bad stomach issues I think “must be poison.”  Could it be that I ate like a pig for the past 72 hours? Nah. Poison.)  By now, you should be making your own “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-Job List to help you get through Mondays like this.  If you haven’t, I’ll let you use mine:

-Mid to Low Level Drug Dealer:  This is NOT a chill job.  Can you imagine if selling drugs was what you had to do to pay your rent?  You would have to say things to yourself like “I didn’t sell a lot of drugs yesterday, so I probably shouldn’t buy this J.Crew shirt.”  And, unlike most sales-based  jobs, the days of super low sales probably wouldn’t even crack the Top 100 list of “Worst Days as a Drug Dealer”.  There would be at least 37 “time I got a gun pulled on me”-days, some “got a knock at my door at 3AM”-days, and, DEFINITELY, a few “the drug kingpin accused me of wearing a wire”-days.  Talk about NEVER being able to just coast though a workday.

And what are the good days like?  I know in the movies there’s like a big drop of drugs in the dark and like a fancy briefcase filled with cash, but that can’t happen for the mid to low-level drug dealer.  The lower level dealers don’t get the mansions and lambos and cool sunglasses; they get knock-off Oakleys and a Dodge Neon with an AC that doesn’t even work.  I guess a good day would be if they got promoted to deal drugs to rich people, but then the chances of going to jail for a long time go up too.  Promotions in the drug dealing world just mean that now, you have to do MORE serious crimes.  And you definitely can’t tell the Druglord Boss-guy that you don’t want the promotion.  You think Scarface is gonna be cool when you explain that the whole “transporting cocaine on boats in the night”-thing just isn’t what you had in mind when you started with the company?

If you do a bad job, the worst thing that can happen to you is getting fired or, maybe, scolded by your boss in a way so personal that you cry alone in your car later that night.  If a drug dealer does a bad job? Something WORSE THAN DEATH could happen…JAIL!  (Jail is worse than death times a billion.  I’ve talked about this in the past, but jail is my number one fear in life.)  With the constant fear of death/jail, is a drug dealer ever in a true state of relaxation?  Are there any days where they just watch Netflix for 11 hours and not freak out about a sound they just heard?  And don’t forget that there’s no getting out of this life.  Once you’re a drug dealer, there will always be people that are planning to do something bad to you and cops that remember not being able to catch you in the act.

-Prison Guard:  I got in an Uber last summer with a guy who told me that he just moved to Chicago to become a prison guard.  He voluntarily moved from Nevada to Chicago because he looked at a prison guard opening as a GOOD OPPORTUNITY.  Thank sweet baby Jesus that there are people like this guy, cuz I can’t believe the government doesn’t have to draft people into these types of positions.  Yes, socioeconomic factors greatly impact who views what as a “good opportunity”, I’m aware of this, but I’m also aware that discussion is heavy and serious and not appropriate for the FUN BLOG!  Carrying on…

To be a prison guard, you not only have to be big and scary, but also smart enough to anticipate problems arising from places you didn’t expect.  If you’re big and scary and smart then shouldn’t you be the head of like a steel-workers union?  I’m pretty sure those are the qualifications to head a blue collar union: big, scary, smart.  But no, you’d pass up the opportunity to shake calloused, meaty hands to break up fights over why the head of the Aryan Brotherhood got an extra milk?  (The Uber-driver/prision guard told me that most of the fights he dealt with in his Nevada prison were over milk and juice.)

I’m sure there are days without fights where maybe you’d connect on a personal level with one of the inmates.  Maybe you could help Larry deal with the misery of being behind bars and watch as he evolved into the person his parents always told him he wouldn’t be.  You’d talk about meeting up “outside of these damn bars” one day, and complain to your wife about how corrupt the judicial system is.  And then that one day would happen, and you’d go meet to meet Larry at the Outback in the nice mall.  Larry would smile when he saw you waiting for him at the table, and walk over slowly while shaking his head in disbelief that he was able to survive incarceration.  Before you ordered, though, your wife would send you a text saying that she “can’t keep worrying about your safety all day, everyday”.  Larry thinks your wife’s worries are a sign of a sweet relationship, but you didn’t tell Larry about the following text where your wife admitted that she had “met someone.”  So now you’re having dinner with an ex-con who required the attention that it would have taken to save your marriage…and your steak is overcooked because you’re at a fucking Outback inside of a mall.

-Hair washer at a salon:  As a resident fancy-boy, I get my hair cut at salons as opposed to a barbershop.  Everyone knows that the best part of getting your hair cut at a salon is when they wash your hair and give you a head massage.  If you don’t make purring sounds while they’re doing this, you’re probably offending the hair washer.  You’ll try to remember the head massage tactics they used so you can attempt to recreate it on yourself during your next shower, but it won’t be the same.  When the hair washer is done, though, think about how you’re probably the least gross person they’re going to have to deal with that day.  (Real talk, if you’re reading this blog, you’re not gross.  Welcome to the not-gross club.)

People have weird heads and nasty hair and gnarly things on their scalp.  These hair washers can’t refuse to wash the head of some dude who hasn’t showered in a week and has a BAD case of scalp acne.  I think they can wear surgical gloves, but what about the days when they didn’t realize they were low on those gloves and now they’re all out?  I also think that LEGIT hair washers look down on the ones who wear gloves; like, they’re not dedicated enough and probably aren’t spoken to at the Hair Washer Happy Hours.

You ever go to get your haircut after wearing a hat all day?  How bad do you feel?  Like, MUCHO BAD, right?  Well, that’s because you’re a normal human being.  Unfortunately, there’s another kind of human being out there that thinks subjecting a hair washer to that is “not my problem.”  AND! The hair washer doesn’t get tipped.  What the hell is that all about?  I’m guessing they get tipped out by the stylist (term for hair cutter person at hot salons), but it probably isn’t NEARLY enough.  I contend that it’s way harder to give a good head massage than give a good haircut.  Listen, you can learn how to cut bangs.  You can’t learn how to have magic hands.  Now that I think about it, next time I go to get my haircut, I’m going to tip the hair washer person more than my stylist AND I’m gonna make sure the stylist sees it.  I’m sure the stylist will be annoyed, but then remember that she doesn’t have to accidentally pop strangers’ head pimples for the rest of the day and go back to being thankful that she’s not a hair washer.

MY WORLD:

Do you love or hate some celebrities for no discernible reason?  ME TOO!  It usually comes down to their face, which is scary to think about because I’m sure strangers have walked past me and hated me just because of my face (my mom VEHEMENTLY disagrees with this btw).  So what celebrities do I hate for no discernible reason (but maybe it’s just their face)?  Here’s what I’ve got:

-Michael Strahan

-Josh Gad

-Nick Kroll

-Angelina Jolie

-Helena Bonham Carter

I started writing some more fleshed out reasoning behind hating these celebs, but…I really think it’s just their face.  So let’s leave it at that.  This is such an internet-y thing to do, but everyone has these thoughts…right?  RIGHT?!?!

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I went to High School with Beck Bennett (SNL star, no big deal, he probably has no idea who I am but whatevs) and this was from his college comedy group.

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Snow.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

This was a surprisingly even weekend…which is a win in gambling terms.  “Even” = “Lost a little” = “Didn’t lose a lot” = “Win”.  Get it?  Anyway, I put some sweet cash on an NBA playoff parlay where I picked all the favorites to win their first round series (Rockets, Warriors, Thunder, Blazers, Cavs, Raptors, Celtics, and Sixers).  If that parlay hits, which I really can’t see why it wouldn’t, it pays out at over +660 so…I’m about to be super rich again.  ALSO!  We’ve discovered that one of my friends is a savant at NHL Playoff gambling.  He went like 6 for 7 this weekend and has earned the nickname ‘Chel Jim.  Love ‘Chel Jim.  Aside from rooting for NBA favorites tonight, I’ll be patiently waiting for ‘Chel Jim to text me his NHL picks.

(My account currently at $219.55)

K bye.