I went to meet a friend for coffee the other day, but he ended up not being able to come. However, while I was there, I did the coolest thing I think I have ever done. The only thing is, the cool thing that I did is even cooler because no one knows that I did it. So if I tell anyone that I did it, it won't be as cool. And yet, by not telling anyone that I did it, I can't get the enjoyment out of telling people how cool I am. So I did this really cool thing, and I want to tell people that I did it, but if I tell people that I did it, then it won't be as cool. So I have to keep it a secret. And this is killing me.
Several times this week I have found myself hanging out with my friends, and I realize that the story is on the tip of my tongue, but as I go to tell it I remind myself, "Self. That's not cool." So I don't tell anyone the story. And no one knows exactly how cool I am.
The fact that I have wanted to tell several people about this very cool thing that I did tells me that I am quite a bit more vainglorious than I previously thought I was. I want to tell people this cool thing that I did, not because it's a good story, but because they will think I'm cool. I'm actually a bit surprised at myself. I know the people I want to tell the story to already love me and think I'm pretty cool. I guess I just want to reassure myself.
But I won't tell. Because I'm preserving the coolness of the thing that I did. If I tell anyone about what I did, then I'll be a little bit cooler, but the thing that I did will be much less cool. Therefore, I am going to sacrifice my own coolness in order to preserve the coolness of the thing that I did. It was, afterall, the coolest thing I think I have ever done. I guess that makes me at least a little cool.
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