miserable

by nick nelson

randall mortimer, a man who had inherited ten billion dollars and seen it grow to forty billion through luck and the skillful handling of his army of employees, struck and seriously injured susanna smith, a crack addicted homeless woman, when she dashed in front of his alfa romeo when the light turned green at a freeway entrance on a cold rainy night. a lawyer for a downtown law firm, acting pro bono. sought a quick settlement of ten or twenty million dollars for susanna smith, but randall insisted that he was not at fault and instructed his lawyers to fight the case to the end and not offer her a penny, in a period of slow news, the case was picked up by the national media, and randall, against the advice of his advisors, appeared on a couple of national networks, pleading his case to the public. he did not make a good impression, and became the fodder for numerous memes. * just because i am a billionaire it doesn’t mean i am happy and carefree all the time, doesn’t mean i don’t have feelings just like other people.. i think you have said that before, randall. but nobody really cares, right? you may finally be getting the message. but am i not a human being? of course. just because i have forty billion dollars doesn’t mean i don’t have feelings, does it? let’s talk about specfiic cases. i know the specific case you want to talk about. susanna smith, right? just because she was a homeless person and i was a billionaire she got all the sympathy even though i was in the right. you didn’t look good there, randall. i think you needed better lawyers and and better p r people. there you go again! i don’t want to hide behind lawyers or p r people, i want people to see me as i am, a human being just like themselves. well, if that is really what you want. here is one thing you might try. it is kind of extreme and even then it might not work. and that is - give away all your money - every last cent. would that work? would everybody like me then? i don’t think so. ninety percent of the population would think you were faking and were a ridiculous hypocrite and the other ten percent would think you were an idiot and and laugh at you. how about this? - i give it all away and then i take a new identity and become a homeless person myself. i don’t think you would be very comfortable doing that. i don’t want to be comfortable, i just want people to accept me for myself. well, if you tried it, you would be found out and it would be considered a publicity stunt and that you were just playing at being homeless - it would be cultural and socioeconomic appropriation - you don’t want to go there. bur suppose i was not found out - suppose i had plastic surgery or extreme surgery to disguise myself? this is the twenty-first century. there are no secrets. you will be found out. are you telling me there is no hope? no hope for what you want. if you have forty billion dollars, have or had, at any period in your life, even if it was for two days, everyone will hate you. and if you cry about it, they will really hate and despise you. no matter what i do, everybody is going to hate me? yes. i am the most miserable human who ever lived! yes, you just might be.