On paper, I’m a very cool guy.

I have a chiseled jawline that could cut through a rump roast like butter. I have a wardrobe consisting of only leather jackets and jeans and I could pull them off in a ballroom just as well as in a dive bar. I went to an Ivy League school, but I’m not an asshole who just volunteers that information without prompting.

But in practice, people don’t think I’m a cool guy, which I think is due to my deep respect for authority.

It all started with my parents: I listened to them because they fed and clothed me and loved me, like some sort of loser. All the cool guys I know (and believe me, I know a lot of cool guys) had difficult relationships with their parents. They were rebels, sneaking out of the house to go to late-night parties. I never snuck out because unfortunately, my parents understood that late-night parties were an integral part of a teenager’s socialization, so they just let me go whenever I wanted. I did go, but looking back now I can see I was missing out on the thrill of disobedience.

I guess I could have tried disobeying them but honestly what was the point? I respected them too much to have them worry about me, you know like a loser son who cares about his family. Plus my dad was helping me get into an unnamed Ivy League school located just outside of Boston, so I wasn’t exactly going to bite the hand that was feeding me, like some awesome rabid dog. I know a guy who literally bit his dad’s hand at the dinner table and that guy is much cooler than me. I guess sorry that I didn’t want my dad to bleed?

But it’s not just my parents; I respect all authority. I guess that makes me a “square” or a “moderate” or “a goodie-two-shoes,” but is that so bad? Is it so bad to have to go up to every police officer on the street, pat them on the back and tell them to keep up the good work, and offer to polish their guns for them? Is reprehensible to be persistent in showing my love for the boys in blue? Does that make me such a bad guy to have been arrested by every police officer I’ve met on the street?

Social media seems to think so, which I only joined because I like supporting businesses that drive our nation’s economy. But no one on there will explain to me why I’m not the coolest guy in New York City. Or why I’m not even the second coolest guy, with the first obviously being my mayor, Bill de Blasio, who I know is trying his best and has our best interests at heart even though I didn’t vote for him. My right to vote has been taken away because of all of my arrests, but I respect the electoral college so much that I vote anyway. Every election I write in “Jesus Christ” because he’s the ultimate authority and I’m shocked that CNN, my favorite channel, never includes him in the election night maps. Apparently voting for my personal lord and savior is such a waste of a vote that they don’t even bother arresting me for voter fraud anymore.

What bothers me is that the guys in the clink don’t think I’m cool either. Even after showing them the jawline and the college diploma. I think it has something to do with trying to shake all of the prison guards’ hands for doing such a bang up job, which I don’t actually do anymore because now I’ve been sent to solitary for the remainder of my stay for my own protection.

Maybe my problem isn’t that I’m not cool by society’s standards, but that society isn’t cool by my standards? I did go to an Ivy League institution, so I’m inclined to believe what I have to say. I know that my parents think I’m cool and the state thinks I’m a felon, which says everything you need to know about me.


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