The one-uppers

Every single one of us has a one-up man in our lives. A topper. An I’m-better-than-you-are-and-I’m-going-to-rub-it-in-your-face individual. They exist consistently and will never go away. Don’t know what a one-up man is? Exhibit A:

Me: I had a late night last night. Heck, I didn’t even get to bed until 2 in the morning. I just couldn’t sleep.

One-up Man: Oh yeah, well I had a late night too, and I didn’t even get to bed until 3 in the morning! I’m way more tired than you are!

Me: Dang, that’s a late night. It sucked this morning too. I had to get up at 6 to open for work.

One-up Man: Oh yeah, well I had to get up and open for MY work too! AND I had to get up at 5! So that means I went to bed later, and got up earlier too!

See my point.

We all have one-up individuals in our lives. I know. There’s one specifically that I’m referencing here. I’m not going to mention any names or anything, cough cough, but I think that those who are reading this and know who I am, might be able to know who I’m referring to. We all have them though. We all know them. If you don’t know any, then according to Dane Cook, maybe you are that one-up individual.

Now why do these different one-up personalities exist? Why are there people who have to top each others stories? Why have one-up individuals caught much bigger fish than the rest of us?

Who knows. I sure don’t.

(Right now I’m almost expecting a one-up man to interject this blog and say, ‘I do! I do! I know the answer!)

I’m sure you do…

Is it low self-esteem? Are they trying to compensate for something? Are they thinking that if they’re better than us at playing the piano, snowboarding the moguls, making country gravy, crocheting a blanket, doing Yoga, and text messaging left-handed, that makes them overall better people?

Heck, they probably think that they are better at blowing their noses

One up man: “See, see, my tissue has more boogers on it than yours does.”

They’re all out there. We know them. They exist in flocks. Chasing after us, hunting us down like predators to rub in our faces how they ran a 100-meter dash in 8.1 seconds in 112-degree heat, how they climbed Mt. Everest backward in 6 days while balancing a Russian tea set on candy cane totem poles, or how they shot a 17-point elk with a slingshot, ping pong ball, and a gummy worm.

They exist. The toppers. The one-uppers. The I’m better-than-you’s. I’ll just be waiting for someone to write a blog and then message me saying, “Have you read my blog yet? It’s amazing. It’s better than yours, and I did it with a typewriter in 20 minutes poking the keys with only two fingers.

Yeah, I know. You’re better than me.