Camels have teeth.
I have teeth.
Therefore, I am a camel.
Life as a camel is great!
I don't get thirsty in this hot weather. I stomp anywhere I want. I don't need haircuts. I don''t worry about getting parking tickets. I never lose my wallet, because I can't really pick it up anymore.Being a camel rocks!
Of course, some people get upset with me. "You're not a camel!" they say. "You're a human!"
"No, seriously," I said. "I'm definitely a camel. I even have The Black Eyed Peas' single My Humps on constant repeat. And I don't even find the music intellectually stimulating!"
I have other problems when I'm asked to verify my identity.
"Sir, let me check your photo ID," a cashier might say.
"Sure thing," I'll say. "But I'm a camel now, so I probably don't look like my photograph."
The cashier peers at my plastic card. "I think you look a lot like you."
"Why, thank you," I say. "But let's be honest, my face is way longer now."
For whatever reason, the cashier's expression assumes traits associated with both confusion and abject terror. "Um, sure," she says. "Can you take your wallet now? You've left it here for two weeks."
"Ooo, no can do," I say. "I can't really pick it up. Camel feet and all."
The sad thing is, I'm often discriminated against. I can't tell you how many times restaurants have denied my patronage, persecuting me for my species.
"Is that it?" I say, wiping a tear from my eye. "You won't let me eat here because I'm a camel?"
"Listen," the manager says. "I don't care what you think you are, no shirt, no shoes, no service!"
"DISCRIMINATION!" I bellow. "I deserve the right to eat a burger however I want!"
Of course, my love for burgers has alienated me from my fellow ungulates, the bovines.
"Look," I say to my cow friends. "I eat burgers because I like the taste, not because I have anything against you as a species or even you personally."
"Moooo," a cow says.
"Oh, shut it, Daisy!" I yell. "Nobody asked a milk trollop like you!"
At this point, a farmer runs up to me. "Hey, get out of my field, kid!"
"I didn't see a sign saying anything about no shirt, no shoes, no service!" I say. "I have every right to talk to these cows as my equals and brother-in-arms!"
"Moooo," a cow says.
"It's a gender-neutral phrase, Daisy! It wastes everyone's time if I have to say 'brothers-and-sisters-in-arms.' And it doesn't roll off the tongue besides!"
Even though my perfectly normal daily life has become a bit of a struggle, not everything is terrible. You would think my gaming skills haven't improved, but I've become an amazing trash-talker.
"Who keeps spitting into the mic?" my unsuspecting opponents ask.
My relationship with my girlfriend, on the other hand, has reached an all-time low.
"Why do you keep spitting on my TV?" she asks.
"Chloe just dumped Brad on national television!" I say. "Curse you, US daytime soap opera! CURSE YOU!"
If I have to live in a world where Chloe and Brad aren't together, maybe being a camel isn't actually all that great.
I guess I'll have to rip out my teeth.