Treehouse: Who Are You Really? Identity, Image, and Escaping the Act
Yo, it’s wild to think back almost a decade ago when we were walking into that Santa Monica apparel store, trying to figure out who you really were. We were totally flabbergasted by your arrogance in snagging a job among a bunch of girls who know who Ayn Rand is and have actually read "Atlas Shrugged."
That’s a level of understanding that’s way beyond you, and honestly, it probably will be, even with degrees and all that. In fact, it’s a book you should never read or have access to.
But seriously, stop trying to be funny, man. You’re not a woman, and you will never be. Our friendship with you—let’s be real, that’s a joke—developed without any need for physical contact. Your choice to work in that environment warrants a reality check for you.
Something more in alignment with unclogging toilets in a gas station bathroom while earning minimum wage would be more fitting for you. I can totally picture you there, wrestling with a stubborn toilet, plunging away while the smell of stale air and cleaning chemicals fills the cramped space. You’d be sweating, toolbelt hanging low, trying to figure out how to make it all work while the clock ticks slowly, reminding you that this is your life right now.
We were just hanging out, enjoying the vibe, and suddenly, we’re surrounded by this sea of athletic beauty. It’s like, “What’s going on here?” As straight dudes, we have zero interest in seeing you in bright, colorful leggings. There’s absolutely no sexual attraction to you whatsoever, and you’re not equivalent to the girls you work with. It’s important to keep it real.
Let’s focus on the genuine connections we’ve built, not on any superficial appearances or assumptions. We’re all about good vibes, and that’s what matters. So here’s to navigating the awkwardness of college life and finding camaraderie in the most unlikely places.