Addiction and Living Like a Douche

I still remember the first time I tried it; it was about 5:15 in the afternoon in June. I had just gotten back from work; my clothes still smelled like fryer grease. People had told me about it before but I didn’t think it was for me. But I tried it, nonetheless. Before I knew it, it was 6. I remember thinking to myself that it was the best 45 minutes I’d ever had in my life; I wasn’t worried about anything; I wasn’t challenged; I was totally and utterly numb; numb to the world, numb to my inner feelings, numb to everything that made my anxiety bubble up. The best part was that I felt great afterword. I had things to say to others, I could finally connect with someone. I even met Danielle because of it. I would sit with her and we would just turn off. Then afterwards I would have the best sex of my life, it inspired me to do so.

I was an addict; I was addicted to Jersey Shore.

I wanted it all the time; I wanted it more than I have ever wanted anything. But I realized: it doesn’t last; I never felt the same way the second time around, it never hit me as hard; I was never as fulfilled by a re-run.

I started watching during season 2, so I had a back catalogue to rely on. I bought the DVDs so I could see the special features. I bought a flat screen so I could see the imperfections on The Situation’s face better, I swore I could get more girls then him; Danielle would assure me it was so.

It became less of a “me and Danielle” thing and more of a “me” thing; I would tell Danielle I wasn’t in a Jersey Shore mood and when she would go to bed I would watch an episode. Me, the couch, underwear, and a big ol’ pile of Jersey Shore in front of me, god it was beautiful.

I started realizing there wasn’t much Jersey Shore left when they all started becoming re-runs; something had to be done to stretch out my waning supply.

That was when I started cutting it down; I would watch more commercials, stop the show and channel surf, whatever to draw it out; 42 minutes of Jersey Shore could now give me a fix from 2 to 4am, I had it made.

This was when Danielle left me; now I was all alone to indulge in Jersey Shore on my time.

One day, while I was at my job, a customer asked me to hold the Mayo.

“How about you go f*** yourself and hold THIS you f***ing grenade!” It just came out; I was fired.

Being fired had never felt so good; I had found my bliss; I had found out how to never be short on Jersey Shore; I didn’t just have to WATCH Jersey Shore, I could BE Jersey Shore.

I sold my Plasma Screen; the money covered 6 months at a gym and tanning salon, I got the premium package.

I started skipping lunch for a new wardrobe; fitted hats and club shirts may be expensive, but the tank-tops kept the average price of gear down.

I started practicing my accent and my behavior; it’s tougher to be totally inconsiderate than one would think, but I started getting the hang of it.

I got a tattoo; where my bush once was there is now waxed smooth skin with the letters DTF in old English script.

I got a new girlfriend; she has melanoma, but she knows how to party.

I moved to a new house; it doesn’t have electricity in 3 rooms, but there is a hot tub in back.

Never have I been so happy in my life. The Hydroxy cut is really taking hold and my abs have never been tanner. I have a reason to wake up in the morning, I have a philosophy, I have something to stand for. I see people walking around so lost, so confused, so unsure; I am confident, I know what is what, and I am in love with who I have become; I can just look in the mirror and get off.

Before you criticize me and label me as a “douche” or a “Guido” or whatever you may call me, remember that I have a brain, I just choose not to use it; I have class, but I disregard it in the name of a good time; I respect women that deserve respect, I just choose not to interact with those types of women and therefore from afar it may seem I’m misogynistic; I have manners, I just think they keep me from enjoying myself. After all, aren’t we here to make our dopamine fire as much as possible? All I ask is that the next time you judge, remember that I’m being what I love and I am living the Jersey Shore Life, because I am an addict.