Now I'm 'That' Guy

I always swore I wouldn't be that guy.

I wouldn't assume I was always right.  I wouldn't try to force others to see the hobby my way.

I wouldn't be that guy.

I wouldn't enable ads on Strictly Average... and now it's large enough that means something.  This is an extension of my hobby; it ain't work.

I wouldn't be that guy.

I wouldn't forget there are real people behind the typeset that magically shows up on my miracle-box.

I wouldn't be that guy.

But I wouldn't, above all else, drop personal details about my life, forcing people to either ignore the too-much-information post or feel obligated to type niceties they may or may not feel.

I wouldn't be that guy.

My father is being driven to Fort Worth for emergency surgery.  My wife and I happened to be in the Metroplex, taking in a show.  We're now waiting for the ambulance to pull up.

The wait is driving me nuts.  This is my stress-relief.

Crap.

I'm that guy.