Trust & Sneakers

I don’t know you (yet), and you don’t know me (yet), but I’m going to ask you to do something for me. Before you start reading anything, I need you to assume that you’re reading this on the same day I posted it regardless of how much time has passed or how much of Greenland has melted so the next line will be valid.
Last night (VALIDITY!) I was watching Scarface for only the hundred and fourteenth time like I’m supposed to, and there’s a scene I like where Tony has an argument with his coked-up wife, Elvira, who leaves in a fit of rage. Tony then has an argument with Manny, his best friend, about trust. And he says that he trusts nobody but himself.
“Who do I trust? Me!”
Those words will always hold a special place in my heart. This is mostly due to the fact that they are said while Tony is inside a sweet Jacuzzi in a room with so much gold and a TV. Those words will also remain relevant to me because of just how much they are overlooked in favor of the far catchier “say hello to my little friend”. It’s even worse because this movie came out in 1983 so it’s older than most of my friends. And it’s not just this one movie. Most of popular culture throughout time is rife with messages about trusting the wrong person, from literature to music. This is why I get stumped when I have friends that are having their hearts broken every other week, usually in a collapsed relationship. I’ll mostly focus on relationships, because that’s what I assume most people can relate to, unless the majority of people who will read this are drug dealers. To the drug dealers reading this: your ‘best friend’ is actually an undercover cop. Run now.
If I had a dollar for every time a friend of mine found themselves in a bad relationship, I’d have me a platinum Ferrari with a gold toilet in the back. I’m not saying you have bad judgment, I’m just asking why you’re always breaking up with someone different every weekend for the same reason. That goes for both guys and girls. I’m not talking about staying in a bad relationship; a friend recently explained why she’s still with her jerk boyfriend, and she made sense. What I want to know is why you’re dating the same person who has had five exes in one month and still complain when it doesn’t work for you, like you didn’t see it coming. Saturday rolls by and you want to drink away your troubles, which is fine. But then you go and drink away your troubles and your memory, because the next week you’ll be crushing on someone with the exact same personality. I can already see all the Taylor Swift songs you’ll have on your playlist a few days later while crying.

One man's trash is another man's beach house. Her main source of income is your heartbreak.
One man’s trash is another man’s beach house. Taylor Swift’s main source of income is your heartbreak.

There are a lot of people who I know who are quick to spot knockoff everything, from clothes to phones, but are terrible judges of character. I know a guy who has the awesome superpower to smell out fake Jordans. I’m dead serious. He sniffs and follows scents and all that. He’s like a bloodhound, only he detects fake shoes instead of corpses and whatever else it is those dogs search for. Donald Trump’s humility perhaps? His ability to tell a person’s character is the exact opposite of his skills with the shoes. He can tell if the stitching on a pair of shoes is wrong from three countries away, but he can’t tell he’s going to have an unsuccessful relationship with the girl whose Twitter bio says “I will cheat on any of my boyfriends, lol”. I have a lot more examples from a lot of people I know, but I won’t because there’s a rule against doing so and not because I’m afraid of what will happen if I spill everything here. What is that saying about dirty laundry? Cleanliness is next to dirty laundry? I think so. That makes sense if you think about it.
I myself have unlocked the secret to life, meaning I have found a whole lot of people I can trust, so I’ve got that going for me. I rarely ever get double crossed. The last time it happened was a long while back when I found out that my cat at the time lived at a neighbor’s house and only came to me to eat and find a place to spend the night. Damn you, Miss Miffles! I was hurt, but I learned a valuable lesson – never let your cat out of the house. It’ll be forever before I get played by a pet again. However, if you find yourself being betrayed every time the sun comes up, you should probably retire from the whole I-trust-you-enough-to-give-you-my-credit-card-passwords business before you end up with a broken heart and a ton of debt. Look into investing in the I’m-reclusive-and-antisocial-because-I-trust-only-me business which is much more lucrative, with the added advantage that your bank statement doesn’t come indicating that you’ve been buying exotic weaves abroad even though you’re a guy and you’re bald.
I hope I’m getting through to somebody. I also hope that somebody isn’t stupid enough to think that I’m the right person to trust because I’ve said everything I have up there. I won’t pretend that I’ll not sell your soul to the Devil himself (or Disney. Disney loves buying stuff) behind your back for the right footwear. Depending on who you are, I could trade your soul for anything from Air Yeezys to flip-flops.

nike-air-yeezy-2-wolf-grey-pure-platinum-official-01
Look at this beauty. You should be honored if I trade your soul for this.

Of course that only applies to strangers and people I hate. If we’re friends, I wouldn’t ever betray you (or sell your soul to Satan) for anything…
…unless it’s a platinum Ferrari with a gold toilet in the back.

Advertisements

14 thoughts on “Trust & Sneakers

  1. Ha haaa, nice piece, it had me giggling for a minute. Also, I don’t trust you! And you can totally bet your behind I’d sell your soul off to the owner of the fiery depths of hell. . .for as cheap as a pair of akalas maybe! And hey! I like Taylor Swift!!

    Like

  2. Kj. Let’s just trade brains…

    ..Look into investing in the I’m-reclusive-and-antisocial-because-I-trust-only-me business which is much more lucrative, with the added advantage that your bank statement doesn’t come indicating that you’ve been buying exotic weaves abroad even though you’re a guy and you’re bald.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s