Like a lot of athletes, I wear my number around my neck on a gold chain. For me, that number is my hockey number – 30. Got it when I started playing when I was wheeling chicks in the sandbox back when I was four, over 20 years ago (I am 24 in case your math skills have gone to shit). It literally has never come off my neck. Without fail, I get dumb motherfuckers coming up to me asking “What’s the 30 for? Are you 30 years old?” Now think about what was just said “Are you 30 years old?” So you are implying I buy a new fucking chain every year to celebrate my birthday? That I wake up each morning, see my reflection in the mirror and catch a glimpse at how everyday I am getting fucking older, fatter, and uglier? The amount of people that ask me this is unreal. I even had some dumb woman behind the counter at the gas station ask me that question when buying beer AFTER SHE CHECKED MY ID.
So please tell me, what the fuck should I say next time I hear this (because the Andy Milonakis disease won’t work)
I’m not gonna put this reader email on the level of the dude who emailed me and said he had a wet dream and lied to his wife and said he pissed the bed. That was the most pathetic email of all time. But I have absolutely no problem putting this at #2. You wear #20 around your neck on a gold chain because that was number in Pee Wee hockey? You are appalled that people are confused and ask you questions about something that absolutely no rational adult would do? You want my advice on how to handle this situation?
My advice is to go sit right in the middle of the LIE and wait for a truck to run you over. The word “douche” does not even begin to describe you brah. Give up the gold chain and give up the hockey dream and recognize that its not everyone elses fault that you’re a dickhead.