I’ll did it, but why?

Today, I want to stop, and thank all the little people who made me what I am. I don’t know most of you and probably never will. Frankly, I’m not sure why I’m thanking you in the first place. But they say, famous folks should stop and thank the little people every so often. So, it is in this spirit, I say, “Thanks to you all.”

You may ask, “Mr. Ohh! why, is the great honor being bestowed on us today?” Sure, you may not. But let’s continue on the assumption you are, because I’m going to explain it all anyway. You may as well be happy about it. I’m thanking you all because this week I realized, I’m part of the one-percent.

It’s puzzling on top

I’m not in the top one-percent income bracket. Heck, I’m closer to the bottom in the bottom of that. Nor am I in the top percentage of great looking people. I’m frankly proud of my ugliness. It gives me character. I’m happy to say I fall into the top one-percent of the world’s most intelligent people. How do I know this? I learned it from social media. And if you can’t trust social media, who can you trust?

You see, every time I log on to those sites, folks keep posting mind puzzles. They’re always labeled, “Only one percent of the people in the world can solve this puzzle.” Well, I always do, and in record time for that matter. Some are labeled with the caveat, “Even Einstein was baffled by this.” I’m never baffled, not even for a minute.

I’m no Einstein

I must be smarter than Einstein? Then I look at the puzzle again and ask, “Why the heck was Einstein baffled by this drivel?” The only reason I can think he might be baffled is because some of them are so freaking stupid, and he’s confused why folks would keep publishing these idiotic things. I thought it might be AI posting all this nonsense. But as Einstein himself said, “Artificial intelligence will never be a match for natural stupidity.”

Then again, the authors never state which Einstein was baffled by the puzzle. It could have easily been Rudolf Einstein, the village idiot of Fregstaad, Germany. It might have been Wellsley Einstein, a British engineer who tried using paper mâché instead of granite as building materials to save costs. As a side note, history sites him as the first person to say, “London Bridge Is Falling down.” Or perhaps it’s Bernie Einstein, who covered his lawn with Hungarian cockroaches, and apricot preserves in an attempt to… Frankly, I have no idea what he was attempting to do, and I’m not sure he did either. Any of these men could have easily been baffled by these social media puzzles. But Albert, not so much.

Of course, silly mind puzzles should never be the only yardstick to measure my elite intelligence by. Ohh no! I have references. To be honest, and I’m not really sure why this happens. But virtually every person I speak to, wants my opinion. Now, I’ve heard, many of the rich and famous having to answer silly questions every day, because frankly if you’re rich folks think you undoubtedly know everything. As I said, I’m not rich. Consequently, I must conclude that I’m super smart and folks all over the world require my benevolent intelligence.

I’m betting some of you have doubts about all this. I wouldn’t be surprised if every one of you have some reservations. Remember, I’m smart enough to know that. Therefore, I will continue with my story without further ado.

Can I ask you a question?

It all started about a year back when I was at my doctor’s office. He sutured my latest blood inducing stupidity, and sent me home. Two days later I received an email stating that Dr. Questorfratz needed my opinion. I was shocked. The doctor is a brilliant man. What would he need my opinion for? Was he going to ask about a tricky diagnosis, or treatment. Did he need some financial tips on where to invest all the money he made from my various idiocies? Did he require a great joke for his daughter’s birthday party? Who knew? I quickly opened the email and looked to see what was so vital.

What he wanted was to ask how he did with the procedure. How do you answer that?? I mean he stopped the bleeding. The pain meds he prescribed worked pretty good. What else was there? But since he asked, I felt honor bound to answer. I told the world he did wonderfully. I mentioned that I believed him to be the greatest physician in the world.

I don’t know what to say

This is what I said, whether I believed it or not. Frankly, I felt if I gave a bad review, my next visit could be a lot more painful. Can’t you just see the doctor saying, “So, you thought it hurt when I stuck in the needle? Well try this!!!” You can easily see how a bad review could go seriously wrong.

After that, I got a note from my pharmacy, asking the same questions. How in the heck am I supposed to rate a pharmacy? “Frankly, the drugs you gave me weren’t quite as good as they could be. I was actually looking for something more like what I got in the seventies. Yes, the pain went away, but that was all they did man. I mean c’mon people.” Even Mr. Ohh! wouldn’t write that in a review. They’d come and arrest me.

Either way, suddenly, everyone from my dog groomer, to my garbage man, all the way down to the guy who robbed me in the park, wanted my opinion. “I’ll give four out of five stars. Your words could’ve been chosen better to enhance my intimidation. Also, you might want to start holding the gun a little higher, and frankly the rubber chicken was just unnecessary.”

It’s not OK

The thing is, you can’t just say everything was okay. Okay is not good enough. Everyone wants everything to be excellent. Every question I rated as “good” was responded to with a barrage of new questions asking how they could make it better. Again, what do you say? I walked in, found what I needed, paid for it, and left. Easy Peasy! Nothing great or fantastic, just in and out. Frankly I liked it that way. But good isn’t good enough for these folks.

The worst was when I went to a coffee house. I asked for a cup, and they poured me one. No complaints, but in my mind, this does not qualify as excellent service. The again, maybe the standards have changed since I was a kid, and the act of pouring a cup of coffee is really difficult. Perhaps gravity has changed and the effort in now enormous.

Either way, their survey was endless. They wanted me to rate every detail of their store, as if I was supposed to preform a white glove inspection. Folks, I just wanted a cup of coffee.  I don’t care if the hidden corners of your restroom are spotless.

Perhaps I should ask someone’s opinion on this.

Don’t ask me for mine.

You Won’t Like it!!