Everybody I know thinks of me as a nice person. I go out of my way to help people; I'm unfailingly kind and compassionate; I give money to charities without thinking about the tax deduction; I treat people with respect and patience, even customer service reps who require me to spell my last name 35 times.
Unfortunately, all this niceness will probably put me in an early grave.
I don't know if there are any empirical studies on this phenomenon but if you Google "Why do bad people outlive nice people?" you get some pretty convincing, albeit anecdotal, evidence. Even religions struggle with this question but they usually come up with the tired philosophy that God works in mysterious ways, which is really just a cosmic mulligan.
And then there's the phrase, "The good die young," not to mention the book, Why Bad Things Happen to Good People.
So I've decided to abandon niceness and become an asshole.
From this day forth, all my Facebook comments will consist of shit pile emoticons.
The next time I'm at a strip club I'm putting coins in the strippers' panties.
Want me to let you slide in ahead of me in merging traffic? Not going to happen.
On my next wedding anniversary, I'm giving my wife a diet book.
If I see a slightly plump woman, I'm going to ask her when the baby's due.
On rainy days, I will make a special effort to speed through puddles that are near pedestrians.
I will eat copious amounts of broccoli before every trip and fart as often and as loudly on the plane as humanly possible.
That elderly woman limping toward the only vacant seat on the bus? Forget it, lady. I'm getting there first if it kills me.
Allergic to cats? I'm bringing mine over the next time I go to your house.
I'm wearing an umbrella hat at theatres that feature subtitled foreign films.
I will flush the toilet 15 times when people are in the shower at my health club.
My best friend is late for a flight. Will I drive him to the airport? Not in this lifetime.
That homeless guy who panhandles near Barnes & Noble will now get an out-of-date Bulgarian coin the next time I see him.
From now on, I'm eating garlic before every dental exam.
Disposing of dog shit when my dog craps during a walk? Forget it.
The next time I'm invited to a gourmet dinner party, I'm bringing the host a bottle of Thunderbird and placing a box of Pepto Bismol on my bread plate.
From now on, I will never use the words "spoiler alert" when telling a friend about a movie.
I'm going to wear a Grim Reaper costume the next time I visit a sick friend.
Who's the asshole that put Krazy Glue on the barbells at the health club? That would be me.
The next wedding present I give will be a fifty-dollar gift certificate for a divorce attorney.
Instead of throwing a shovelful of dirt into an open grave at the next Jewish funeral I attend, I'm renting a bulldozer.
Anyway, you get the picture. If you don't, do me a favor -- drop dead.