The good life
"You're life," they all say. "It must be so fun."
Actually, yes it is. And yes, I get that a lot.
"You're so lucky," they all say. "You get to make television commercials and go to big meetings all over the country."
Yes I am. Yes I do. And yes I do.
When it comes to the many, many people I know -- or those who simply know of me -- they all have the same disease. Jealousy. And frankly, I can't blame them.
While they're strapped to their cubicles exchanging e-mails about palettes of balsa wood and while they're scheduling internal meetings about database management, I'm masterfully influencing America's youth, convincing them about the emotional and physical benefits of spray-on cheese.
"I wish I were you," they all say.
Yes, yes, yes. I'm sure you do.
Truthfully, my life is not for everyone. Only a special kind of person can do what I do.
Someone like me.
Someone prepared to deal with the powerbrokers of corporate America.
Someone who enjoys first-class style and comfort.
Someone who's spent the past 15 years living an existence very few ever get to see.
"He's so lucky," they all think. "What a life."
"Yes, it's tough to be me," I say.
"What?" said the voice from the front of the Ford Explorer last Thursday. "Did you just say it's tough to be you?"
"No, no, no," I said, from the wayback of the Explorer last Thursday. "I said this portfolio case keeps jabbing me in the temple."
"My God, he's so freaking annoying," mumbled the voice from the front of the Explorer to the driver. "I don't even know why we brought him."
"He's an idiot," said the driver.
While four of us were headed to a critical client meeting the next morning, truth be told, my role clearly was the most critical of them all. For this client -- like all my clients -- is dependent on my strategic thinking, my creative solutions and my unique insights in helping them with their marketing problems.
"If you say anything stupid tomorrow I swear I will kill you," said the voice from the back of the Explorer.
Which, while being the back of the Explorer, was still not the wayback of the Explorer.
"And please tell me you brought all the storyboards this time," said driver. "No one needs to sit through another meeting where you open the portfolio case and say, 'Uh-oh.'"
"Stupid creative moron," mumbled the voice from the front of the Explorer. "I don't even know why we brought him."
"Idiot," said the driver.
Yes, a man of my stature has worked hard to earn the respect of those around me, and I'm able to reap the benefits of my efforts through honor and recognition from my peers.
In short, when I talk, everyone listens.
"I've gotta go pee," I said.
"Omigod. Just. Shut. Up," said the voice from the back of the Explorer. "Can't you hold it?"
"Not really," I said.
"Why did we bring him?" said the voice from the front.
"I've still gotta go pee," I said.
"Like we didn't hear you the first time you asked 20 seconds ago," said the voice from the back. "Cripes, just pull off on the side on the road and let him pee. Maybe we'll get lucky and somebody will run him over."
While many at my level of success are selfishly ignorant of our natural surroundings, I choose instead to be at one with God's green earth. And rather than dismiss what has been blessed upon humankind, I opt instead to enhance our environment with my knowledge and superior skills.
"Hey look, everybody!" I said. "I'm watering a dead squirrel!"
"Get in asshole," said the voice from the front of the Explorer.
Not to rub it in, but for me, a trip of this magnitude offers an opportunity to experience many of the comforts of business travel. Case in point: the joy of world-class dining. I personally see travel as a chance to tempt my discriminating taste buds with unique and flavorful cuisine from specialized offerings not often afforded the average person.
"Holy crap, will you look at this exit," I said. "McDonald's! BK! Arby's! Come to papa!"
Often, others may not understand nor appreciate the particularities of a well-trained palate such as mine.
"That is so not happening," said the voice from the back of the Explorer. "Keep going."
Another not-very-surprising fact about me is that no only do I write magnificently, but I'm an incredible communicator. Perhaps the best ever.
Frankly, I'm keenly aware of the sensory perceptions of the human spirit, and I possess the ability to encourage my audience to utilize all of their senses. Oftentimes in unexpected ways.
"Jesus Christ, who farted?" screamed the voice from the front of the Explorer.
"That is the sickest thing I've ever smelled in my life," said the voice from the back of the Explorer.
"Why's everyone looking at me?" I asked.
"Sick pig," said the voice from the back of the Explorer.
Yes, with my glamorous lifestyle, I can often be found carousing late into the evening, enjoying the frivolity of being me, and reaping all the benefits of my success.
"Wake up, dickhead," said the voice from the front of the Explorer. "We're at the hotel."
"Huh?" I said, removing the portfolio wedged in my eyeball.
When I tell friends and family of my whirlwind travels, they listen with awe and envy as I regale them with tales of my posh surroundings and the spectacular amenities found at many of the world's finest hotels.
"Welcome to the Holiday Inn near the strip mall," said the man behind the counter with a sucker in his mouth. "What can I do for y'all?"
"Yes, we have four reservations," I said to the man.
"I'm sorry sir, we've got a bit of a problem," said the man.
"What exactly does that mean?" I said.
"Well, we had a flooding problem," he said. "But rest assured, we're still going to take care of you. At no charge, we're going to put you all up at the Ramada Inn."
"Would this be the Ramada Inn near the strip mall?" I asked.
"You've stayed there?" asked the man with the sucker at the front counter of the Holiday Inn near the strip mall.
To me, one of the fun and pleasurable things about my life that many don't get to experience is the mystery of the great unknown.
I pride myself on exploring new things and discovering new areas of the world I've never seen.
"Um, two things," I said as the Explorer pulled up to the Ramada Inn near the strip mall. "One, this looks like a Best Buy turned into a Ramada Inn. And two, there isn't a car in the parking lot."
""It's midnight," said the driver. "Do you have a better idea, retard?"
Of course I did. But I chose to keep it to myself, only because the others wouldn't understand. They never do.
"Hi, welcome to the Ramada Inn near the strip mall," said the man at the front desk.
"Hi," I said. "We have four vouchers for free rooms from the Holiday…."
"Hang on a second," said the man at the front desk.
Then he picked up the ringing phone.
"Hello?" he said. "Uh huh. Uh huh. Yes sir."
Then he hung up the phone and picked up his walkie-talkie.
"Hey Harry," said the man at the front desk, "we need a plunger in Room 287 fast. And I mean fast!"
Then he hung up the phone and looked at me.
"How can I help you, sir?" he asked.
"Please tell me I'm not in Room 187," I said.
I'm almost embarrassed to admit how often I'm spoiled by my surroundings and how on many occasions I take for granted what I have and what is bestowed upon me. Because I am so special.
"Smoking or non-smoking?" he asked.
"Non-smoking," I replied.
"We don't have any non-smoking rooms left," he said.
"Then why did you ask?" I asked.
"Would you like a room with a safe, sir?" he asked.
"Your rooms have safes?" I asked.
"Yes they do," he said. "For valuables and such."
"I'm curious," I said. "What types of valuables would one have who stays in the Ramada Inn near the strip mall? A Dale Earnhardt belt buckle? A Kid Rock bobblehead? Teeth?"
The man at the front desk didn't look up.
"Here's the key to your room, sir," he said. "Go down this hallway and turn to the left."
"What's my room number?" I asked.
"Guess," he said.
"Do I have to?" I asked.
"Guess," he said again.
"187?" I tried.
"Enjoy your stay, sir," he said. "May I help the next person in line, please?"
I walked away as the voice from the front of the Explorer stepped up to the man at the desk.
"Isn't he an asshole?" said the voice from the front of the Explorer to the man at the desk.
"Goodnight everybody," I said.
"Hey, we've got to be in the lobby at 6:45 tomorrow morning," said the voice from the back of the Explorer, which was now the voice in the lobby.
"It is tomorrow," I said.
"Don't be late," he said. Then, I walked away.
"Asshole," said some guy in the lobby I'd never seen before.
Truthfully, as many fabulous hotels as I've stayed at in my life, I never cease to be amazed at how each has its own unique style…its own flair…its own distinctive ambience that separates it from the rest and fulfills its promise of world-class accommodations.
"This is the front desk," said the man at the front desk I called from my room.
"Hi, I just checked into room 187," I said.
"Oh, it's you," he said. "What do you want?"
"A couple of things actually," I said. "This room kind of smells. Like, y'know that perfume smell that you spray to cover up other smells? It smells like that kind of smell."
"What else?" he said.
"Well, I just took my shoes off and the carpeting is kind of, y'know, wet. Like it was just cleaned and never dried. And if it wasn't cleaned, I'm not really sure I want to know why it's wet."
"Anything else?" he said.
"Isn't that enough?" I asked.
"What can I say?" he said. "The room is free and it's the only one we've got left. Take it or leave it."
"I don't have much choice, do I?" I said.
"Not the way I see it," he said.
"I need a wake-up call," I said.
"We don't do wake-up calls," he said. "Use the alarm clock."
"I don't see an alarm clock," I said.
"Look in the safe," he said. "It's next to the Dale Earnhardt belt buckle."
"Funny guy," I said.
"One more thing I forgot to tell you sir," he said.
"What's that?" I said.
"You're an asshole," he said.
With that, he hung up. And with that, I tried to go to sleep for four hours.
"You're life," they all say. "It must be so fun."
You, my friends, you have no idea.