Please meet BetterMan

You and I both know this person. Well, maybe not the same person but definitely this particularly annoying type of person. For the sake of this little rant I am going to name this person BetterMan. This character is definitely not a superhero. BetterMan gets their name because well, everything they have is just better, man.

It doesn’t matter if BetterMan is a close friend, family member or casual acquaintance. Certain undeniable truths make BetterMan the person they are. First of all, questioning you about the cost of your home, furniture, car, electronics, etc. is completely legitimate. Also, BetterMan would like to see your W2, tax returns and retirement accounts for comparison sake. There is absolutely no shame in BetterMans game.

Here is a classic example. You just purchased a new vehicle, BetterMan walks up and immediately asks, “What did you pay for the new rig?” Feeling a bit awkward you reply, “I got a pretty good deal.” Not happy with that answer Better Man responds, “Yeah I looked at that model but it seemed like the performance wasn’t quite there for the price. I decided to spend the extra and get the turbo powered Who Gives A Shit XL and man it’s expensive but I love it.” Of course you do BetterMan, of course you do.

The other thing about BetterMan is that they are in no way shape or form an expert in the bull they sling. Somehow BetterMan can work a 9 to 5 job as a middle manager at some shop and yet they have become the all – knowing Messiah of any major purchase you might have. Need to find out the television you researched online and purchased was ok but not nearly as good as Bettermans, they will be happy to tell you. Want to find out that you overpaid for your house in a neighborhood that BetterMan could only hope to live in, they got that shit too. See, for BetterMan this is like compensating for middle age by buying a Corvette and starting Botox treatments and pretending that maybe just maybe you haven’t lost a step a or two.

I have discovered that the hard part of dealing with BetterMan is in not just looking them straight in the face and calling bullshit. The satisfaction of saying, “Dude, you make $15.75 an hour and work 40 hours a week. I am no math major but I know enough to know that when you were out vehicle shopping you weren’t looking at a new Mercedes S-Class.” I think I would truly love to watch the crumbling of the BetterMan façade but I just can’t pull the trigger. Maybe I am getting soft in my old age, it happens to everyone. I guess I will have to just hang around and deal with it and maybe do a little Corvette and Botox shopping on my own.