First a Starbucks, then a bank, followed by a rather dirty looking Scottrade sign drifted by as I stared from my usual early morning Uber ride. Perhaps I am that douchebag. You know, the one at the unicorn startup, with the Tesla and the hot cool girlfriend. That reminds me, do hot cool girlfriends want to be accoutrements hanging on their rich boyfriends? I think not.
I have never been much for writing, and quite honestly I don’t write much beyond a third grade level. Of course this means I fit right in with the collection of fools I spend my day with.
My first thought: Every time I see him walk by I can only punch him psychically. I may be a douchebag but I am not the douchebag. You know him, you have loved him, the man, he will never let you go. He says it is love, but what is love without choice?