The Ones

Let me ask you a question: what wouldn’t you do to avoid the rat race? I know, I know; heavy subject for you to handle. Especially while you’re watching me sip this coffee and smoke my cigarette — right? That’s my point. Here’s another question: How many cars do you notice ever leaving this place? We’re all active people here within The Ones; our children have ballet and art classes; football and baseball practices. We work out and work in general. Well, at least all of these other schmucks. You see, I’m what you would call a slacker. My wife goes to work, recruiting and eventually selling homes and school tuition and insurance, etcetera — to potential and ultimately; Ones residents. I’m just a guy with a gift of gab, who has dinner parties, pajama parties, makeup parties; vitamin, health and wellness parties. I give away wine and a discount book to new homeowners. I hold team meetings in our Welcome house — model home for those of you wondering what the hell a welcome house was.

I managed to not only trick the system. I beat that son of a bitch, swept the weeping mother off of her feet and fucked every one of her fantasies over beautifully hued sunrises and sunsets. If it weren’t for this show you wonderful people are filming, I’d be balls deep in my woman, who should be home from her open house in the next few minutes. I’m just a lucky hombre, I guess.