The Fuck ‘Em Theory
I had a revelation this past week. I was with my friend at a bar in Santa Ana having a couple of three cocktails. We were talking about politics and vice when a man and a woman sat next to us at the bar. We briefly exchanged glances, a head nod, and then my friend and I continued our conversation. As we went from Old Fashioned’s to straight Glenlivet, our talks became Tolstoy's A Confession and the new Wuthering Heights film. I looked over and the two individuals had left. Sitting on the bar countertop was a Tumi wallet. It was safe to assume it belonged to one of the individuals and so I picked it up and looked inside. It belonged to Jim Collins—the man.
“Did they just leave?” I asked my friend.
“I think about a minute ago,” he replied.
“Should we chase them outside?”
My friend shrugged. “Fuck ‘em,” he said.
“But maybe he needs the wallet to pay for parking.”
My friend shrugged again. “Fuck ‘em.”
“What if they get pulled over by the cops on the way home and he has no other form of ID on him?”
And for a third time, my friend shrugged. “Fuck ‘em.”
I set down the wallet and picked up my drink. I looked at my friend and shrugged my shoulders. “Fuck ‘em,” I said and took a sip. And thus, the Fuck ‘Em Theory was born.
It’s simple: When people make a mistake, do something you don’t like, disagree with, or don’t understand, don’t be bothered by it. Fuck ‘em. Don’t try to help them. Don’t try to control other people’s behavior. Don’t try to convince them of anything. They are who they are. Fuck ‘em.
Now look, there’s two parts to this theory. The first is what we went over already. Your manager doesn’t ask you to join your other coworkers for happy hour. That girl is not texting you back. Your friend really does believe Five Guys is better than In-N-Out. Fuck all of ‘em. Which brings us to the second part of the theory. Fuck me. Manager doesn’t ask you to come to happy hour? Fuck me, I totally forgot to buy oat milk the other day, I’ll see you losers tomorrow. That girl still hasn’t sent a text? Fuck me, she wishes she could. Five Guys over In-N-Out? Fuck me, I can’t believe I still talk to that idiot. It’s simple. And it works every time…
So there you have it. An easy way to live your life without worries or caring what others think of you. And if you don’t like my theory, fuck you.