If you ask any of my peers, I’m not lacking in confidence. But sometimes walking through life knowing you’re existing and not dominating isn’t enough. Come every Thursday night when I walk out of work for the weekend, I feel untouchable. But when I’m sitting in my office on a Tuesday morning because I’m scared my dad will fire me if he knows I’m at our summer house, I hang my head a bit.
Luckily, there are a select few situations that give me instant false confidence when I don’t necessarily deserve it.
Wearing A Suit
A great man once said:
You put a suit on me, you’re lucky if I make eye contact with you, let alone talk to you. Unless you wanna rap about startups, oil and gas, or venture capital, leave me alone.
There’s something about wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you feel like you’re going to battle in iron armour. All of your irresponsible actions are rendered responsible simply by their association to your windowpaned navy jacket with the perfectly folded pocket square peaking its bloodshot eyes out at the world. I mean, studies even show that suits make you feel fucking invincible.
Whether it’s after a wedding, a work happy hour, or even after church, the second a drop of alcohol touches your lips and you dust off your lapels, you turn into a one-man wrecking crew who can do or say anything with no repercussions.
“Look good, play good,” they say? Nah — dress like an asshole, act like an asshole. It’s not the most honorable endeavor, but hell, it sure is fun.
If I’m Having A Good Hair Day
I’ve got a full head of hair. It’s luxurious, it’s got waves in all the right places, and I spend thousands of dollars a year to make sure it’s well-maintained. If I have to get my hair surgically repaired because it’s thinning, I will. I have no reservations keeping this moneymaker in tact. These locks have made me too much money not to repay them back.
When I wake up and my mane is perfectly coiffed, I feel like someone slipped an Adderall in my mouth between snoozes. I’m talking Clooney hair. Efron hair. Dempsey hair. That Colin Farrell shit.
If I can walk into the office without having to wash my hair because I get out of bed with the perfect sheen and messy style, every meeting is my meeting. I’m winking at my secretary, your secretary, everyone’s secretary.
When I’m With A Large Group Of Friends
When I walk into a restaurant ten-deep, everyone knows we’ve arrived. Our sole goal isn’t to ruin your dinner with our loud stories detailing every single one of our sexual exploits, but that’s just what happens when the band gets back together. Do we take things a little too far with our requested waitress when we’re sequestered to the wine cellar? Yeah, maybe. But I’ve got a theory that she doesn’t do squats for us to just look at her ass.
When you’re a lone wolf out on the town, it’s easy for the fuzz to isolate you and get you in trouble. But when you’re with nine of your best friends/colleagues, that’s ten separate lawsuits they’re going to have to deal with when we claim false arrest.
The hard work my parents put in during the 80s has allowed me to live paycheck to paycheck with no real repercussions. If I see my account dipping below five figures, I know that I’ve got that Friday safety net to fall back on. Do I have to skip a couple nights out at the Soho House if I go too crazy one weekend? Yeah, but that’s just a product of me dominating.
But the second my direct deposit hits my bank account, I feel like I could buy Manhattan. My brain transitions from a privileged dude to a real estate mogul mixed with Richard fucking Branson. I’m taking half of my paycheck out in cash purely because I like how the wad feels in my pocket when I’m sitting at the bar at Skylark for happy hour.
When I’m Doing Cocaine
Sometimes when I’m feeling down, I put on Kanye West’s “I Am A God” and just see what happens. Before you know it, I can feel a thick amorphous liquid trickling down the back of my nasal passage while Kanye sings:
Hurry up with my damn massage
Hurry up with my damn ménage
Get the Porsche out the damn garage
Sure, I’m alone in my townhouse watching my old lacrosse highlights and work sucks the next day, but it’s better than being sober. .
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