======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
Last week was my birthday. If you feel bad about forgetting to wish me a Happy Birthday, you needn’t worry. You can make up for it by buying something from my Amazon Wish List. You know, like I’m a pornstar and you’re one of those weirdos who buys me new lingerie and purses in return for a signed 5×9 glossy.
On the eve of the big day I made a pretty momentous decision. I’ve decided to spend the last year of my twenties working towards one goal and one goal only:
One conclusion I've come to on the eve of my 29th birthday: by 30 I want to own a hottub and spend the rest of my life as a hottub guy.
— JR Hickey (@johnnyjhickey) April 17, 2017
Owning and operating a hot tub by the age of 30 doesn’t just scream success. It screams sex. No longer will I spend my evenings staggering over to my couch to split my time between half heartedly scrolling through Netflix and looking through my phone. Instead I envision a much different type of evening…
I scrape the remainders of my sirloin dinner into my wolf Bastian’s food dish, walk to my silk robe closet with half chewed Cuban poking out of my lips, pour myself four fingers of Scotch and lower my body, naked as the day I was born, into my own personal 105 degree maelstrom.
I look out as the sun sinks below the snow covered mountains of my Colorado backyard and admire how brilliant the stars look at night. The Capital R Roommate, who has now become the Capital W Wife, walks out onto the deck carrying a silver platter adorned with an assortment of candied walnuts and Morrocan chocolates. She struggles to climb into the hot tub due to her oversized breast implants but I don’t move a muscle to assist her. Because my muscles are in a state of complete relaxation due to the hot tub’s 26 massaging water propulsion jets.
We share the dessert and talk about that past weekend’s hot tub party, which we of course hosted. A few other neighborhood couples came over and we spent much of the late evening and early morning submerged in the balmy beauty of the whirlpool. Drinks and wives were shared as our laughter echoed up and over the mountain peaks.
Our Filipino nanny (my mother) asks if she can be done for the day. I ask her first if the kitchen has finished being cleaned and then tell her I don’t have my checkbook on me but will pay her extra next week. She asks again if she can move into one of our six spare bedrooms, but I patiently explain to her that those are reserved for hot tub party guests only.
After spending a quick seven hour soak in the tub and with my blood alcohol content at five times the legal limit, I make my way to my royal blue Hummer to drive off to visit my secretary and stay at her studio apartment in the city. Don’t worry, the Capital W Wife is both understanding and open to welcoming her into our bedroom.
As I weave back and forth at 87 mph down a pitch-black mountain road, I’m blinded suddenly by the hi-beams of an oncoming snowplow. I swerve to avoid a head on collision and send the Hummer through the guardrail and over the side of a thousand foot drop. The last words that run through my foggy, alcohol soaked brain before we smash headfirst against the bottom of the hillside are simply, “Did I forget to put the cover on the hot tub?”
I can’t wait..
This week on Don’t Take It From Us, Jenna Crowley, and I rate and grade your dating profiles with our new segment Bumblebraggin! We also discuss nightmare airplane scenarios and answer your DMs! New eps will be released every Wednesday, so check it out on Soundcloud below or on iTunes!
We have an Instagram now too! Follow us here for a first look at the dating profiles we’re grading and all sorts of content throughout the week!
Image via Shutterstock
Respond
JR Hickey
Stand up comedian and writer from Chicago who now resides on the West Coast. JR can be seen performing at Cobbs Comedy Club in San Francisco and Zanies Comedy Clubs in Chicago. His work has been published in the Chicago Tribune and recently he was a part of SF Sketchfest 2015. JR's also the host of the PGP dating podcast Don't Take It From Us. He loves you very, very much.
@JRwilldoit
@JRwilldoit
“Drinks and wives were shared”
Didn’t know you were about that life, JR.
Didn’t judge this but you lost me at treating your mom like shit. Even in fantasy satire you can’t do that nonsense.
So in less than 5 years you want to be hosting orgies in a hot tub that your mother will either witness, take part in, or have to clean up after? Possibly all 3?
At this point in my life and physical fitness, I’ve determined my last remaining hope for having a threesome involves a hot tub in some way.
The parents have a hot tub, that I rarely used growing up. Having one at your own place postgrad would be a game changer with the squad and with the opposite sex.
I mean it was a game changer in high school growing up so I can only imagine what it could do now.
Can confirm hot tubs are great. Had one at my building in college and it facilitated everyone in the crew getting laid at least once.
Fully torqued for the hot tub life. I need one on the deck of my sailboat.
In our recent search for a new apartment, I’ve started walking out if they don’t have a hot tub on the property
As glamorous as the hot-tub life seems, they require a lot of maintenance and attention such as testing and balancing the water chemistry regularly, cleaning the filter, running the pump, removing debris, shocking it to kill bacteria, preforming a drain and refill every now and then, etc…
The only hot tub maintenance we want to hear about involves cleaning out the occasional beer can and bikini piece from the filter, nerd.
Username checks out.
Just curious, is TSM dead right now or does it just generate clicks?
Good take on this. I can get behind almost anything if it involves relaxing and celebrating regularly for no particular reason
As the (self-proclaimed) authority on hot tubs and their legalities, I approve this message.