A good editor in chief keeps his friends close and his creative director closer, so this year I have been roommates with David Hipp. The staple fiasco is a result of this living situation.
On the day in question, I was in bed. I wasn’t feeling as naturally curious as I usually do. And then I received a text.
If I’m being completely honest I only briefly looked at the text, assessed that it wasn’t immediately relevant to me, and then went back to sleep because I was having a really good dream. I don’t remember what it was but I am thinking about making a social media app where we could record our dreams. It would be like Dream Twitter (but not in the Minecraft Youtuber DreamSMP way).
Naturally, there was a heated argument about the staple when I finally woke up. David said that I was being disrespectful and not very empathetic at all. That doesn’t make sense because I am the most human person that I know. Regardless, upon forced inspection, I discovered the staple was rather small and there only seemed to be one of them. This contradicted David’s claims and any shred of empathy I had subconsciously held had now disappeared entirely.
I’m going to counter some points that I think our Creative Director could make as to why he thinks the situation was dangerous.
Argument: The staple was very sharp.
Counter: The staple was small to the point where the statistical chance of him stepping on it was very low.
Argument: There were two staples.
Counter: I only saw one.
Argument: The staple could have pierced his foot.
Counter: David has incredibly tough callused feet. He often talks about being “racially ambiguous” which I have taken to mean he is part hobbit.
Argument: The rusty staple could’ve carried tetanus.
Counter: I believe David lives day to day with tetanus.
In conclusion, the staple on the balcony wasn’t that big of a deal. David Hipp lives in an attention based economy and is seeking to top the Forbes 500 list of attention.
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