The Fourth Wall Comes Down! Sort of.
A BLOG BONUS: Today’s post features grading notes from Mrs. Robisher, my 8th grade English teacher!
I know the statistics are truly damning---fourteen friends, fourteen comptrollers. (nice vocab!) But I swear, things have just shaken out that way. No one goes through life trying to amass a bunch of comptrollers as friends, but this is what’s (make this ‘what has’) happened, and I make no apologies for it. It’s like (make this ‘as if’) every time I turn around, I’m accidentally staying in the same hotel as a comptrollers’ convention, or I’m at a wedding and somebody says, “Hey, I heard you’re in good with comptrollers; let me introduce you to my nephew, the comptroller”, or my do-nothing agent is sending me on a cattle call to be an extra in yet another movie about comptrollers (Are there really many movies about comptrollers? Research this), and suddenly another one’s sticking to me like glue. I thought I was out of the woods on my vacation and talked sports with the guy who repaired my jet ski, then asked him if he wanted to have a beer and scope out the chicks (Change this to unmarried ladies---this is crude!) since he knew all the good local places to go. So there we are, shooting the bull for a couple of hours, and it turns out he’s from East Whippany, and we decide to hit (Change this to 'attend') a Nets game later in the month, when BAM! he tells me he’s only a mechanic during the summer and the rest of the year he’s a comptroller. Damn! (Delete!) There must be something about me that attracts comptrollers, is all I can say. (What would that be? Needs more detail) I used to have an ombudsman thing going about ten years back, but thank God that faded. (You seem to be losing focus here) I just didn’t know what to talk about with them, even though I knew nine of them. They were pretty much my entire friends group in Shappahannock. In fact, they used to call us The Nine Ombudsmen and Tim. We owned the 117th Street Denny’s, I’ll tell you that. (How is that related to your original thesis?)
What I’d like is to start getting to know some coopers. I could really see myself hanging with people who make wooden barrels, casks, and buckets. Couldn’t you? (Why is that? Insufficient background provided) I’m just trying to avoid another crazy moment like last month when my girlfriend of two years looks at me and says (You have a verb tense problem here!) “Wait…you’re judging what cheese today? I thought you were a comptroller since you never hang out with anyone else. You’ve been a fromager all this time?” Comptroller by association, that’s just great. Do I ever say to her, “Since you know so many cicerones, you must be a cicerone”? (I am not familiar with this term.)
(You need a stronger ending and perhaps a stronger beginning and middle. Look into a new concept as well, and clean up your to-be verbs. A decent start, worthy of a check-minus.)