Jack Dawes

Jack Dawes walked into the room like he owned it. I was still trying to catch my breath.

He sipped his coffee like it was a challenge. I drank mine like it was a war.

He laughed at my joke. I laughed at my own joke. That’s when I knew I was doomed.

He showed up wearing a tuxedo to a pizza party. I showed up wearing a tuxedo to a pizza party. I forgot to bring pizza.

He got a standing ovation for walking in. I got a standing ovation for walking out.

He said ‘nice try’ when I tried to be cool. I said ‘what try’ and walked away.

He texted me ‘see you later’ and I texted him ‘see you in the afterlife’.

He had a pet iguana. I had a pet iguana that hated me.

He got a scholarship. I got a scholarship to a school that didn’t even teach me how to breathe.

He was cool. I was cool. Then he got a girlfriend. I got a girlfriend. Then he got a girlfriend who was also cool.

He walked into the room. I walked into the room. He was cool. I was confused.

He got a promotion. I got a promotion to a job I didn’t even know existed.

He was cool. I was cool. Then he was cooler. I was cooler. Then he was cool enough to leave. I was cool enough to cry.

He said ‘cool’ and I said ‘cool.’ He said ‘cool again.’ I said ‘I can’t.’

He was cool. I was cool. He became cooler. I became cooler. He became cool. I became cool. He became cool. I became a ghost.

He was the main course. I was the side dish. I tried to be the main course. He said ‘nope.’

He ate a taco. I ate a taco. He said ‘that was cool.’ I said ‘that was a taco.’

He got a nickname. I got a nickname. His was ‘Cool.’ Mine was ‘Cool’s Side Dish.’