The Happies

I think we can all agree that people who are constantly filled with happy sunshine pleasantries can just go die.

Now, It's entirely possible that I'm a little more irate about this simply because I live in Utah, which is ground zero for these overly ecstatic freaks of nature, whom I have dubbed the "Happies." Still, I'm fairly confident that you have someone that occupies your space with the bubblegum thoughts of joy. You know the sort, every day is an occassion to be lived for, nothing but positive energy in the air they breathe, every word is something reassuring and innocent. These poor beasts are completely devoid of frustration, wickedness, and cynicism.

And frankly, there's just no place on this earth for that kind of behavior.

The scariest damn thing is they seem to outnumber the rest of us. For as much as we've all tipped the phrase "Misery loves company," the truth remains that these happy joy joy freaks are the ones congregating. Congregating isn't even the right word for it. They're forming gangs, that's what they're doing. Nonprofit agencies, coffee shops, or anything that involves kids but not the word "school." You will find them there, being happy.

And people being happy isn't really a problem. But when they impose that happiness on us miserable sacks of shit, then things go awry. That's right, if you occupy any space within a 50 meter radius around these people, they will make you be happy too. Fail to comply, and they will do horrible things to you.

They won't shun you, or speak badly about you behind your back or anything like that. Those are the tactics of the realists, i.e. us normal folks. The tactics of the Happies are far more cruel.

They will integrate you.

They will beat you down with mundane small talk and random comments about people you don't know, then they'll sugarcoat it all by making small meaningless jokes about themselves in a sugary voice that could give you gingivitis. And they will mercilessly do this until you run screaming for your lives or until you play along.

Most of us play along without us realizing it. It starts with us being polite. They start dropping sunshine on us, and we smile and take it. Hell, we don't know these people, and they seem to be sitting pretty good with things, so why screw that up for them right? So we smile, hold back all the shrill comments the rest of the world gets, and wait for it to be over. Before you know it, they're asking you questions, that you must now answer in an aesthetically pleasing tone. You have to right? I mean, you've been polite and well-mannered up to this point. Can't change gears on them now. 20 minutes later when they've pulled out their wallets and are showing you pictures of a cousin who works at some lumber factory, you realize they've got you. You've been hooked by the lip and are now being dragged along. Your only hope is that they'll tire of your weakness and seek prey elsewhere.

If you want to be happy, then damnit go form a club and do it somewhere else. But don't lay it on me like I'm supposed to be buying into it. This is my air you're fucking with, and I get a mite onery when you drag your parade into my rain.
If you're concerned you may be one of these Happies, then I got a quick test for you. For you see, when one goes to sleep at night, there are really only three types of mental train you can book. The train you choose most often defines your personalty.

The categories are:

1. You go to bed knowing that the world is a wonderful place, and it'll be wonderful tomorrow because things are always wonderful and packed with cream-filled goodness. You sleep in the warm embrace of gumdrops and sugarplums.

2. You go to bed knowing that the world isn't perfect and can oftentimes be downright depressing. People can be cruel and ignorant, starvation and homelessness are very much in fashion, and some days you just don't know what you're even supposed to be doing with your life. You fall asleep hoping things will be better tomorrow, but not terribly surprised if it's not.

3. You go to bed and lull yourself to sleep with images of you fighting hordes of zombies, piloting interstellar starships, or fighting a rebellion against a government out to destroy you.

If you belong to category 2, chances are good we will eventually have a drink together and inevitably bitch about how bad thngs are. To everyone in category 3.....hell, you're all my friends too. We'll get together and have a few laughs. But it's you bastiches in category 1, whom I will eventually have to crush. Your spirits are just too chipper for your own good, and it's ruining our buzz.

Do you realize that even the hippies can't stand you? It's true, the hippes hate your guts. And when one of the most despised subcultures of our time has issues with you, something is definitely wrong. Granted, even though the hippies tend to wander through optimistic land, they're still well aware of the fact that the world isn't doing so well. They're even making a conscientious effort to change it with unwashed hair and knapsacks, which is more than we can say for you freakishly happy people.

You Happies really need to consider the feelings of other people. We're miserable dark souls, and we like it that way. Having something to bitch about is really all we've got. It's our endorphins. The equivalent to your mocha latte. They get us through things and insure we wake up in the morning. Still, you keep trying to mess with it, and it's making me testy. If this keeps up, bad things will occur.

So, I'm warning you hear and now, throw some sun on my gloom, and I will pop that euphoric balloon of yours. If you smile and wish me well, I will have to scar you.

Don't believe me? Try it. The next time you wish me a good day, I'll whip out something along the lines of "Is it? Maybe for you, but probably not for people in Sumatra who find themselves even more impoverished because a tsunami decided to give them a hug. So, if you want to ride a happy wave while riding on the backs of thousands of homeless Indonesians, do it without me you morbid freak!" Your hearts will be forever crippled, and you'll have no one to blame but yourselves.

Change Happies, or I will change you.