By Stuart Horwitz
- Parking. In the city. When you got there late. And did not have a plan.
- Produce from the grocery store that you plan to make taste good enough that your children will want to eat it, but instead it just goes bad in the crisper drawer.
- Four grande black-and-white skim mochas (one pump each) with whip. This is an easy one to rip on, but really these things have like 400 calories anyway.
- A cab during rush hour that actually got you there later than a combination of the subway and brisk walking would have.
- Two packs of cigarettes to smoke, like, two from each pack because you were drinking and that seemed like a solid idea.
- The sixteen “Dice” scratch tickets you bought one at a time over the course of nine months while waiting for Chinese food take-out. (Ticket #4 won you $5, but you couldn’t quit while you were ahead, could you?)
- An adaptor for your adaptor instead of returning the first adaptor, and starting over again.
- That last round.
- A fresh set of plastic plates, cutlery and cups because you are either: a) too lazy to look for the last set or b) to proud to put out a slightly mismatched set from your current remnants.
- Another copy of INXS’ “Kick” because your niche is that you like and defend ’80’s music.
- Faxing things (but they didn’t make me pay for the cover sheet! small victories!)
- One bank fee from the evil Bank of America (oh yes I did), so evil that this actually covers the next one also.
- see above.
- Betting with your heart.
- Nail polish. (You know who you are!)
- And finally, any time you offered to pay lunch for that drone in your office who will get you back every one time you buy three times (I think that math works out to you having wasted $16, assuming you would have had to pay for your own lunch anyway).
In short, Dear Reader, buy my book. Or, buy someone else’s book. But buy somebody’s book—because chances are—it will be the best investment you will make all day.