Why I Am a Terrible Person
I don’t do nice things for people. The reason for this is that I am constantly writing my obituary in my head, and that I am deathly afraid of dramatic irony.
Chris Braak died in a car accident today. He was helping an old lady change her tire on the Schuylkill expressway and was hit by a truck.
It’s not that I don’t want to be doing something nice when I die — quite the opposite, in fact. I think if most people had the choice between dying while doing something nice, or dying while doing something horrible and selfish, they’re going to pick the former.
Chris Braak died of a freak lightning strike. He’d just purchased flowers and a heart-shaped balloon for his fiancee for Valentine’s Day, when he stepped out into the street and was struck dead.
It’s more like the act of creating a moment that would be especially dramatic to die in — one in which my death would have a kind of maximum dramatic impact, due to the juxtaposition of circumstances — somehow invokes death. Like I’m somehow taunting him by creating a moment that is too obvious a choice.
It just makes me leery of nice things happening in general. Everyday is bad, though some days, like Valentine’s Day, are worse. One day, of course, is worst of all:
Chris Braak dropped dead of a heart attack this evening. He was walking to his mailbox to see if there was a new Netflix for he and his fiancee to watch while they ate the special dinner that she’d made him for his birthday.
The spectre of my sudden and dramatically ironic demise looms ever closer.
I hope you’re all happy.