Paragrapher's Journal

I'm That Guy
I suspect this is a true story.

I’m That Guy

You ever wonder who leaves a baseball-sized fist of paper floating in the toilet? Who never cleans up after their dog? Who leaves a used condom in the aisle of a hardware store? I’m that guy. I park diagonally across three spaces. I litter. I put gum absolutely everywhere. I’m responsible for money being so dirty. I have never in my life put my cigarette butt in an ashtray. I have never in my life not smashed a glass bottle in the street. I take your pen and never return it. You have another, but you don’t know that I just cleaned my ear with it. I’m responsible for every stain you notice in a cheap motel room, and several stains you don’t notice. I look in medicine cabinets when I’m at parties, and then I steal. I do everything that irritates you. And I do many things that would frighten you if only you knew about them. I lick fruit in the supermarket and put it back. I blow my nose in my hand and wipe it on doorknobs. I relieve myself on your tomato plant. Twice this year you’ve eaten my sperm. The worst thing about me is that I am not just one person. I’m millions of people. And the world is my toilet.

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