EMMA PATTERSON
Scallion Assistant Editor
Danny Sallright was, until recently, a walking phenomenon. With his constant smile and “Life is Good” cap, he was a 40-year-old optimist. However, it seems even the most cheerful of the world’s population cannot protect itself from the unrelenting deluge of crap that is 2017: One day, Sallright awoke to the startling realization that life is, in fact, not good.
“I was sitting in my duplex apartment munchin’ on celery and watching reruns of ‘Alf’ when it happened,” a visibly-shaken Sallright told The Scallion. “It just hit me that life, like . . . kinda sucks.”
The dismal revelation has apparently resulted in Sallright’s transformation into a shell of the man he once was.
“This is really coming out of left field for me,” he said, staring out the window with the eyes of a dying gazelle. “One minute I was dreaming about my endless career possibilities, and the next I was in the middle of a gray office, sitting in a squeaking swivel chair and sipping cold coffee out of a chipped mug I got from TD Bank.
“I feel like a puppy who just realized that it will never catch its own tail,” he continued. “I mean, what am I supposed to do now? It’s not like I can go for a walk or anything. The streets are filled with criminals, and the air is polluted. I can’t get something to eat because, nowadays, a taco costs $40 plus your soul. And have you heard that obesity rates have increased?” Sallright wiped the panicked sweat from his forehead and stared at it with revulsion. “What is happening to me?!” he shrieked.
With his frayed jorts and yellow polo shirt, Sallright has the sneaking suspicion that not only is life bad, but it can only get worse.
“Do you know who the president is?!” he squeaked as he feverishly scrolled through the endless amount of Trump tweets on the internet. Referring to his hat, he exclaimed, “I feel like my whole life is a lie!”
Sallright is only the most recent victim of what is being called the “Optimist Plague of 2017.” Just last week, three people were reported to have fallen into a pessimistic abyss of despair, from which only small cubes of cheese, rollerblading kitten videos and copious amounts of alcohol can save them.
“I think it’s time I took this off,” the walking definition of the word “glum” said, taking hold of his “Life is Good” hat. “We’ve had some good times, this hat and me. We went mini-golfing together.” He sighed like an elderly man taking his last breath and cradled the hat in his hands as if it was a fatally injured bird.
“Call me Daniel now,” Sallright said. He stared gloomily in a mirror at his prematurely balding head. “Oh, great,” he said, relishing his newfound sarcastic wit. “It just keeps getting better, huh?”