Seven People Who Hate You Tell You Why

There is a special place reserved in hell for Morphizm contributor Tom McNichol. Or heaven, depending on your worldview. From writing Osama bin Laden’s diary to founding a magazine for defrocked priests to ranting against literary hoaxes like 1984, he has kept it surreal and hilarious for Morphizm since 2001.

His latest effort is all about you, and the people who hate you. Secretly. For now.

Seven People Who Secretly Hate You Tell You Why
[Tom McNichol, Morphizm]

Your dentist
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a liar. And that’s why I hate you. Frankly, I’m surprised your pants aren’t on fire. When you sit in my chair and tell me that you brush three times a day and floss regularly, do you ever stop to consider how transparent those lies are? You’ve got maxillary molars and lateral incisors that haven’t been touched by a toothbrush in years. Years! Plus, I can tell that you try to make up for your poor dental hygiene by brushing furiously the night before you come to see me. Pathetic. And I’m sick of mailing you reminders to come in for another check up. It’s every six months, jerk.

Your college girlfriend/boyfriend
Didn’t think you’d be hearing from me again, did you? No, of course not. That’s typical of your “it’s all about me” attitude. Looking back on our relationship, I realize now that you didn’t care about anyone but yourself. I thought you were my soul mate, heck, even my twin flame. We should have been searching for ‘twin flames healing‘ and practising shadow work but you were too involved with yourself and what you had going on. How can you be a soul mate when you don’t have a soul? And I recently discovered, with the help of Google’s “advanced search” feature, that since we broke up, you’ve had a lot of trouble staying at the same job for any length of time. That doesn’t surprise me a bit. It’s the same fear of commitment you had when we were together. Seeing how you’ve turned out, I don’t hate you so much as pity you. No, on second thought, I hate you.

The supermarket cashier at the “12 items or less” line
Oh, I know what you’re thinking – that I hate you because you sometimes bring more than 12 items to my checkout. Please. I could care less how many items you or anyone else has in their basket. I’m only working this job until I save up enough money to move to California with my boyfriend. I hate you because of the time you pointed to the “12 items or less” sign and said to me with a really smug expression on your face, “You know, that should be ’12 items or fewer.'” Just shut up and pay for your stupid groceries.

The guy you cut off in traffic 6 months ago
I haven’t forgotten our little confrontation even if you have, jackass. I’ll never forget how you barged right into my lane even though I clearly had the right of way, and then you gave me that little wave, like you were thanking me for letting you in. Well, I wasn’t letting you in. That’s why I waved back to you with one finger. I hate people like you who think they own the road. But my day will come. I know your car and I know your license plate number. And next time it will be different. Very different.

The homeless guy who’s always at the same corner when you walk by
From my time on the streets, I’ve learned that it’s not worth getting caught up in hate – you only destroy yourself. Except when it comes to hating you, because you are entirely deserving of my hatred. Of all the people that pretend not to notice me, you are by far the least convincing. The suddenly hurried pace, the furtive glance at the newspaper, the conveniently timed coughing spell – none of it rings true. To me, you are a living symbol of a heartless society that has turned its back on those most in need, and for that, I truly hate you. But I’m willing to re-consider my feelings in exchange for a dollar.

The neighbor you occasionally say “hi” to
It’s Dave, not Don, idiot.

Your therapist
Well, “hate” is a pretty strong word, and I’m not sure it’s very helpful. Let’s just say I have some issues with you. The main one is that you come in week after week and talk about the same damn thing over and over again. Low self-esteem, anxiety at work, a vague feeling that life is somehow passing you by – give me a break. Everybody has those feelings. Welcome to the real world, chum. Come to think of it, “hate” isn’t too strong a word after all. I hate you. There, I said it. Now I can take possession of my hatred and let it go. Well, I’m sorry, our time is up, let’s pick this up again next week.