“Where do you see yourself in the next 5, 10, 20 years?”

You get asked that question a lot in life: job interviews, therapy appointments, parole hearings, etc.

To me, life seems too unpredictable to know what the heck I’ll be doing next week, let alone in several years.  But I’ve given it some thought and I think I’ve come up with a pretty solid, realistic answer.

Someday, probably not too far in the future, I’m going to snap and become an evil villain.

This shouldn’t be too much concern to anybody because I’ll be very ineffective. My arch-enemy won’t even be a superhero. It will just be gravity.

There I’ll be, making my grand gesture of evil, threatening to push the button on my doomsday device unless all my demands are met (a zillion dollars in cash or the equivalent value in puppies).

But then, before my demands can be met, I will inevitably trip and fall, breaking the button.

Then I’ll have to say, “You may have won THIS time, Gravity, but I’ll be back!”

Of course that won’t matter because it was all really a bluff because I’d have already forgotten where I LEFT the doomsday device. I know I put it somewhere safe so I wouldn’t lose it.

“Putting things somewhere safe so I won’t lose them and then losing them in the safe place” will be the sidekick to Gravity. He’s going to have a lot of initials on his super suit insignia.


My evil escapades won’t even make the evening news because my story will get bumped by an adorable cat. (“You may have won THIS time, Cat…”)

This adorable cat plays the harpsichord with his nose.  Something that I myself can do, I might add. People just don’t find it adorable when I do it because I’m not a cat.

“Stop getting snot on my harpsichord,” is what they always say.

Or that’s what I imagine they’d say if I knew anyone who actually owned a harpsichord.

(You may be wondering how I know I can play the harpsichord with my nose if I don’t even know anyone who has a harpsichord. I just have an unshakeable feeling that I would be an incredible harpsichord nose player. And confidence is 99% of playing the harpsichord well with your nose.)

Anyway, after my defeat, I’ll retreat back to safety in my evil lair.

It won’t actually be a lair per se. Real estate is expensive. I’ll just take my laptop to my favorite Mexican restaurant, where I will yet again fill up on chips and salsa long before the food comes (“You may have won THIS time, Chips and Salsa…”)

I’ll review my plan for obvious flaws: “I didn’t wear heels. I was careful to make my stand on very level, paved ground. I wasn’t even trying to walk and talk. I was standing completely still and somehow Gravity still got me.”

Then I’ll have a moment of brilliantly evil inspiration. Using my laptop, I’ll draw up the blueprints for my latest evil secret weapon (using the Paint program). Then I’ll bring the plans to my evil minions (actually, they prefer to be called my sisters) and have them construct my secret weapon for me.

Of course then I’ll have to build yet another doomsday device, but this time I’ll leave myself a note so I can find it again.

Doomsday note

Then I’ll get busy with other things and not find any time to be evil for a while. It’ll come up in conversation sometimes:

(At lunch with a friend)

Her: Hey, weren’t you thinking of taking over the world as some sort of dictator?

Me: Evil overlord, actually.

Her: Oh, that sounds interesting.

Me: Yeah, it is. I’ve just been pretty busy lately, but I do want to get back into it. It does take a lot of planning, though.

Her: I’ve heard that. I have a cousin who was into world domination for a while, but he said there was just too much planning. Now he’s an air traffic controller.

Me: Oh, that’s neat.

Eventually I’ll make time to have another grand stand. I’ll have lost the note telling me where my doomsday device is, but I decide to try bluffing again. Only this time, I’ve got my secret weapon: a chair.

I sit down in my chair on nice level ground.

Me (into megaphone): “Attention, world! I am here to take you over! You must give into my demands or I will push this button, which will activate my doomsday device, as far as you know! Don’t try to stop me! I have hidden my doomsday device somewhere you will never be able to find it! But if you do, please let me know where.

“My demands are as follows.

“First of all…

(Falling out of chair, breaking button and megaphone)

Where did you even come from, Gravity? Oh, well. You may have won THIS time, but…do you like Mexican food?”