This is the 13th time I have been involved in an annual event and probably the 12th where I have thought ‘Ugh, that pretentious twat is here again? I thought he hated this town and everyone in it. I wish he’d just park his sour ass in [insert country name here] and leave us alone.’
Truth is, yes, he is pretentious and yes, he insulted this city the first time I met him (making me go full nuclear on a stranger, a very rare event indeed), but I doubt that he has given me one tenth of an iota of a thought since then. If he sees me, he looks right through me like I’m a ghost or, worse, a pleb.
And yet? I can’t let it go. I probably should. But I don’t have an actual nemesis (OR DO I?), so I’ll just continue to resent his existence and dream up comebacks I will never use.