Becoming the youngest vice president at a Fortune 500 company is more important than friends, integrity or self-respectMany college newspaper editors like to use their last columns to say "thank you" to people none of their readers know or care about. But by doing this, another polite saying gets neglected more than Francis Bean Cobain and all the Beckham children combined. To remedy this, I would like to spend the next few paragraphs saying "you're welcome."
To my younger sister Gloria: You're welcome for all the stuff I buy you instead of taking the time to actually listen. Remember: Feelings are okay (as long as you keep them to yourself), but designer jeans make cute boys like you.
Mom and Dad: Don't even worry about buying me a graduation BMW for not failing, not getting deported or not joining Greenpeace: It was my pleasure to spend thousands of your dollars to not become a doctor or civil engineer.
Erica and Edward: If you thought it was an inconvenience to me to participate in all the fun stuff you guys invite me to — not at all. In fact, being friends with two of the coolest people in SA-Town or A-Town has actually proven quite enjoyable.
Todd, Kristin, Jill, Kathryn, Stephanie, Lo Mein, Christie, JJ, Bradley, Eric, Stan, Stephen, Laura and all my other Travesty brosephs and sisters-in-women's assertiveness training: You're welcome for all the unsolicited dances, broken furniture, and times you've had to drive to Lake Travis to rescue me from strange lake houses. Don't I rock?
Wal-Mart: You're welcome for all the merchandise I refunded. They weren't really the wrong size or color; I was just too polite to say "You're a sick, exploitative excuse for a corporation that dropped a shelf full of gardening supplies on my dad's head and then wouldn't cover the ER bill even though we decided not to sue" to your face. You're welcome for that, too.
Parking and Transportation Services: You know all the money I've paid you to leave my car on a hot sunny roof, or as fines for not parking in the ninth vestibule on the third nanosecond of the summer solstice? No biggie — I would have probably spent all of that money on silly things like books or donations to starving children anyway.
So in short, no matter how grateful you are that I've touched your lives or that oatmeal you were totally going to eat, know that it didn't really matter to me anyway. You're welcome!