I never really got into the whole Where’s Waldo craze – and not because I don’t see the allure of the books. Mainly because I find Waldo to be kind of an asshole.
Think about what it must be like to be friends with that guy.
You’re hanging out, having a good time, you turn your back for a second and the dude is gone.
Then you spend the rest of your day asking people if they’ve seen a tall, lanky guy who tends to just stand around in one crowded-ass place with a goofy smile on his face.
And if you’re not already with him, just imagine trying to get in contact with Waldo.
Waldo doesn’t care about anyone but Waldo.
He’s traveling the world, having the time of his life, and you’re blowing up his cell, leaving voicemails that grow increasingly more angry as the hours pass by.
7:42 PM: “Yo, Waldo, my man – it’s Frank. Me and some other dudes are heading out to the bars tonight, give me a call, trying to see if you wanna roll.”
9:58 PM: “Waldo. It’s Frank. Are you coming or not man?”
11:23 PM: “Dude – you fucking suck. Where are you, the Great Barrier Reef or some stupid fucking place like that again? Great. I’m not coming after you this time man – I’m not doing it! Fuck you man. Fuck you.”
Not only does Waldo always make you come find him – he always wears the same damn clothes.
Some jeans, a striped red and white long sleeve shirt and a red and white winter hat.
Every single day.
Even when you have to fly to Egypt to find his dumbass – there he is, wearing that outfit in the hot sun. What’s he trying to do – be funny?
I don’t think it’s funny. Not at all.
I think he’s an annoying fucker who deserves to stay lost.
I don’t know – but I guarantee you he’s being a bitch.
(The contest is over – so go please check out the Win Something! page for all the great stories that I received.)