Why is the protagonist of a story always some great guy who discovers something that nobody’s ever seen before? He’s always the one who finds the secret door or escapes the prison or manages to question things people don’t question. I mean, I guess it makes sense, you can’t write a story about someone who doesn’t do something nobody else does, but still. What about us everyday people? We deserve a story too.

For example, there’s this guy I know Lawrence Kluger and he’s always been the topic of hero-worship. I mean he’s a great guy and all, and maybe he does look a little better than the average bear and he’s strong and stuff, but he is no more deserving of a story than, say, me. And sure, he saved that girl from drowning a few years back but I avoid stepping on worms when they beach themselves after a heavy rain, and in the end my net gain of lives saved is higher than his. So really, if someone wanted to write a hero worship article in a paper, I would make just as good a candidate as he would. Let’s see-I’m tall (or at least, not ridiculously short… 5’4” is still kind of tall right?), handsome (at least two of the girls who have puked when they saw me obviously had food poisoning), strong (I bench pressed 10 lbs the other day), and extremely suave (When I fall, I pick myself up again with very minor readjustments). Girls fall over themselves to get to me (or they fall over me when I’ve fallen, but really, same concept). And I’ve led a very interesting life (even moreso if all the rumors about me floating around were true).

So really, when considering people for most likely to grow up and become a selfless firefighter or something, I’m as good a candidate as anyone. Kluger won it, when we did the superlatives for senior yearbooks. But I’m sure I was a very close runner-up.