Your opinions are far inferior to these opinions
I hate Gerry.
Who is Gerry, you ask? Oh, I’ll tell you who Gerry is.
Gerry is a guy who has brown hair with way too much gel in it. As a result, his hair looks like it is glued to his head. However, he has one single piece of hair which proves to be an exception, as this one piece of hair simply sticks up in the air like he’s Alfalfa.
Gerry likes to wear bow ties with stripes and polka dots on them. God, his bow ties make me want to gag.
Gerry likes to pick his nose and eat it. That is absolutely disgusting. No one should do that. Ever.
The absolute worst part about Gerry, though, is the fact that he likes to talk about how mustard is better than ketchup. No. Ketchup is the best condiment ever. Mustard can suck ketchup’s bottle opening.
Today in English class, our teacher, Mr. Kittle, decides to pair me and Gerry together as partners to discuss questions based on the book we just finished reading, Persons Who Wander by someone named Robert Matheson. Supposedly, Robert Matheson is Mr. Kittle’s pen name, and he is making our class read his book so it will sell. The book is pretty awful. It’s about some dude who can’t decide what the hell he wants to do with his stupid, pathetic life, so he keeps going to these different places and meeting all these people and can’t hold down a job for the life of him. I feel like this is Mr. Kittle’s autobiography from his early twenties.
Good old Gerry, who is not only wearing a polka dot bow tie today, but socks with mustard bottles drawn on them, loves this damn book. Whenever we have open class discussions, he blabbers on about how beautiful all the imagery in the novel is and how he didn’t want to put the book down and blah blah blah. Whenever he opens his mouth I want to stick my foot in it.
Gerry is very excited to discuss this pure piece of crap book with me. He is all giddy and smiling with his mouth shut, probably because he just ate his own boog. His Alfalfa hair, sharp and pointy, sticks up in the air as per usual.
“Jamison, didn’t you just love this book? It was so powerful!” I’m pretty sure about a gallon of spit lands on my desk when he sputtered this sentence.
“No,” I say. “I couldn’t stand this book one bit. This book sucked.”
“Jamison!” Gerry gasps. “How on earth could you possibly hate this book?”
“Because it was bad,” I say matter of factly.
“No it wasn’t.”
“Yeah, it was, Gerry. You’re wrong.”
“No, you’re wrong.”
“No, YOU’RE wrong!”
“Gentlemen, please,” Mr. Kittle walked by, “The discussion questions are meant to be discussed, so please discuss them.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kittle,” I say. “But there is nothing worth discussing. This book was awful. Period, end of story. Anyone who thinks anything otherwise is wrong.”
Mr. Kittle turned scarlet. “Why would you say that, Jamison?”
“Because my opinion is far superior to everyone else’s. I know what’s good and what’s bad. This book is bad. Gerry’s hair looks bad. Gerry’s bow ties look bad. Mustard is bad. Gerry’s snacking habits are bad. You can’t argue with that, because I know that I’m right.”
Mr. Kittle’s neck twitches. “You know, Mr. Matheson worked really hard on this book and put a lot of time, blood, sweat and tears into the writing of this novel, so you could at least try to find some good parts about it.”
“Well, Mr. Matheson, there are no good parts about it. I hate to break it to you. Also, why are you using a pen name? Is it because the only way your books will get read is if you force your students to read them, and “Robert Matheson” is a cover up for the real you?”
If Mr. Kittle was scarlet before, now he is a fire engine. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Jamison. I would never force my students to read my works.”
“Mhhhmmmm,” I say.
“What about me?” Gerry asks.
I looked at Mr. Mustard Socks. “What about you?”
“You said that my hair, bow ties, and mustard are bad. And my snacking habits! What does that even mean?”
“I think you know exactly what I mean, Gerry,” I say. “I know your hair looks bad, because I know what looks bad and I’m always right. I know what tastes awful, and mustard tastes awful. I know what looks stupid, and bow ties with stripes or polka dots on them look stupid. I’m never wrong, Gerry. My opinions are really facts, because anyone who thinks any differently from me is wrong. W-R-O-N-G wrong!”
“Well, I know a lot of people who would disagree with you, Jamison.”
“Yeah?” I sneer. “Like who?”
“Well, like me, for instance. What if I told you that my opinions are far superior to yours and your opinions are inferior next to mine?”
“I know they’re not, because my opinions will never be inferior to yours, Gerry,” I say.
Just then, there it went. The finger up the nose.
“Gerry, you’re about to do it again!” I say.
“Do what?” Gerry’s mouth curled sideways as if confused.
“You’re picking your nose, and then you’re going to eat it. That is disgusting. Find a different snack!” I exclaim.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he snaps.
“Jamison, I don’t think Gerry actually eats his own boogers,” Jenny, one of the girls in the class, says from the back of the room.
“You must not pay very good attention then,” I say.
“I like mustard,” a boy named Roger says.
“You may say that you like it, but it’s bad,” I say.
“Why?” Roger asks.
“Because I said so!” I say, “Whatever I say goes, people!”
Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Good. This means we are out of time to discuss the horrors of that horrible book.
I stalk out of the room, unable to get the image of Gerry’s finger up his nose out of my head. My thoughts churning. Tomorrow I will come to school with ketchup socks and a solid color bow tie on. I’ll gel my hair and make it spike up. Everyone will love it. They’ll see. I’ll be receiving compliments left and right. I just know it. I’m always right. Everyone will at least be thinking of compliments, anyway. Some will just be too scared to come up and say anything.
Casey Koenig is a third-year student majoring in Outdoor Adventure Leadership. They’ve spent years working on their opinions and looks forward to responding to your arguments. Just email them at email@example.com