Columns » I, Anonymous

I, Anonymous

That Guy


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Hey. That Guy. Cyclist who blows through stop signs. Man loudly talking on the phone on the bus. Ladies narrating the movie in the back of the cinema. Guy pushing through the crowd at the concert. Person who honks their horn at every available opportunity. Rude barista. Non-tippers. Aggressive canvassers. WHY ARE YOU THAT GUY? You know people hate what you do. Everyone complains about you all the fucking time. But you do it anyway. I can't, for the fucking life of me, figure out why. Do you not realize you're That Guy? Or do you have some secret rage against the standards that create That Guy? Do you just not care about being That Guy? That's the thing that bothers me the most. Just why. Why are you doing these things? Why are you That Guy? TELL ME.—Anonymous


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