I Heart Haters

His t-shirt was purple and had the phrase ‘I (Heart) Haters’. I watched this slightly pudgy, unstylish oaf lumber towards me with this declarative statement plastered across his undefined chest, and I wondered; what about this person made him think that people would ‘hate’ or be jealous of him?

None of the typical adornments of money, success, or even general self-assuredness decorated his body; no gold watch, no $300 sneakers, no foreign manufactured automobile keys jingling in his hands, no beautiful woman hanging on his arm, no visible swagger in his step, no nothing. He was just some dude, proclaiming to the world his love for haters via his t-shirt.

It bothered me, that this man of no real distinction, had the nerve to think enough of himself that someone else would ‘hate’ him. The level of delusion it took to: 1) look at that t-shirt and think that it was cool 2) look at that t-shirt and think it applied to this person 3) look at that t-shirt and pay money for it 4) look at that t-shirt and wear it in public triggered a dull Pavlovian hate for some implied stupidity. It bothered me even further, that my reaction to this innocuous shirt, was to in fact ‘hate’ him. Furthermore, my hate towards him, made him (if I believed what his t-shirt said) actually love me.

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; – Matthew 5:44

Who was this guy in a purple t-shirt spreading love to his enemies (this mysterious group of ‘haters’ that I found myself suddenly aligned with) in this post-millenial WWJD aesthetic? I wasn’t necessarily his enemy, but on the surface of things, literally the surface of his t-shirt, the sight of him in his self-centered delusional shirt, had put him in a place where we were not on the same team. I was indeed a hater, a hater of him, and because I was a hater of him, he loved me.

I felt tricked by this dude and his t-shirt. This dude totally flipped the negative energy I was sending his way, and turned it into a positive. I had been given a sermon on love in reverse, I was getting Diddy mindfucked right there in public and all I could do was take it. And despite whether or not this guy was intentionally or unintentionally teaching me something about judging books by their covers, or sending out negative energy, or that we should love everyone despite how they feel about us, I still hate that guy and his stupid shirt.


A Day In the Life, November 28th, 2012 (pt. 1)


5:45 a.m. – Alarm sounds on my wife’s Blackberry every day at this time. It is an effective alarm because it is very loud. How loud is it? Loud enough to be heard from downstairs. Guess who had to go downstairs and turn it off.

5:57 a.m. – In bed again. With no safety net (no snooze button, alarm fully disabled), the possibility of falling asleep and running behind is very real. The anxiety of finding underwear, uniforms and shoes, keeps me awake though.

6:07 a.m – Get out of the bed and wake The Rose. She’s autistic, and despite her many oddities, she’s actually the most obedient child we have. She went to sleep before dinner, so a bath is required.

6:20 a.m. – First child is dressed, and only her hair needs to be done. My wife, her mother, the slowest thing since molasses takes this task on. This process will last up until and possibly after the bus arrives.

6:33 a.m. – The bus arrives, and The Rose boards with no problem.

6:34 a.m. – Boil water for coffee and veg out for a few minutes. Vegging out basically means I check various social media streams while ogling local weather and/or traffic ladies on the morning news. (but don’t tell my wife about that last part, she doesn’t like that)

6:45 a.m. – Make and consume coffee.

6:57 a.m. – Say good bye to the wife as she heads off to her job.

7:00 a.m. – Wake up my oldest daughter.

7:15 a.m. – Check to make sure oldest daughter is out of the bed.

7:33 a.m. – Wait at the bus stop with the oldest daughter. Odd thing though, the bus arrives and my daughter gets out of the car as slow as possible. The bus has to clear a few cars parked on the side of the street in order to pull over to the curb. Once the bus passes my daughter, she starts walking back to the car. She opens the door and says something about getting written up for chasing the bus (which is bs btw), and I tell her to go and get on the bus because it is pulling over. She walks back, and sees the bus is still inching farther down the street to pull over, but she turns back towards the car again. Seeing enough of this foolishness, I let down the window, stick my head out, point at the bus and scream ‘GET ON THE BUS!’.

7:34 a.m. – Go to the grocery store to pick up breakfast and dinner stuffs.

8:31 a.m. – Take call from oldest daughter. She forgot her basketball gear for practice after school. Which means, I have to take it to her before I go to work.

8:40 a.m. – Quick clean up of the kitchen, while I prep breakfast for the trips and start meat sauce for the po’ mans pasta AT THE SAME DAMN TIME!

8:55 a.m. – Serve breakfast, turn on PBS, and finish up sauce.

9:00 a.m. – Sneak upstairs to move bowels, wash thine body and remove unwanted facial hair.

9:20 a.m. – Come back downstairs, watch Sesame Street with the kids and veg a little.

10:10 a.m. – Received a 3 messaged text detailing the in and outs of her lunch order. I put it on Instagram for reference.

10:37 a.m. – Leaves house.

10:45 a.m. – Arrive at daughters school to drop off gym bag. (second time this week with this nonsense)

10:56 a.m. – Head towards Potbelly’s for sandwiches.

11:23 a.m. – Arrive at the wife’s jay-oh. Drop off sandwiches, and exchange quick innuendo.

11:44 a.m. – Arrive at the jay-oh for a half-day’s shift.

I’m gonna stop here and make this a two-parter. This is way longer than I thought it would be, but whatevs, find out what happens next in Part Two.