Don’t Be That Guy: A Thousand Attaboys and One Oh Sh*t

You know that saying: “It takes a thousand attaboys to make up for one ‘oh sht.’”* Whoever said that? Genius. Pure, unfiltered genius. Because it is painfully, annoyingly, exasperatingly true.

Let me take you behind the scenes of my other life. Yes, because while my writing career is still building (more chapters to come, friends), in the daylight hours I organize a huge outdoor art show in my hometown. And not to brag, but let’s just say, if there’s a job connected to this event, I do it. I’m like Mary Poppins with an endless bag—except instead of pulling out umbrellas and sugar cubes, I pull out spreadsheets, contracts, and more emails than any sane human should have to read.

Part of my annual heroic efforts includes creating alllll the social media content. I’m talking images, videos, stories, text—you name it, I design it. Last year, I uploaded the whole glorious lot to a shared folder and told my nearly 200 artists: “Hey, it’s all there for you! Use it however you’d like. The more the merrier. Promote the show, promote yourselves.”

Most of them were thrilled. They dove in, downloaded their favorites, posted away, and even sent me sweet notes of thanks. It was working exactly as I’d hoped. But then—oh, dear reader—came that guy.

He didn’t want to download the images. No, that was “too much work.” He asked me to pick some out and send them to him directly. Fine, I thought. Deep breath. I grabbed a handful of files, attached them, hit send, and patted myself on the back for being extra helpful.

But do you know what he did next? Complained. Loudly. At length. About the ones I sent.

Now, here’s the part that gets me: hundreds of artists—yes, you read that right—hundreds—either posted about how much they loved the show, sent me messages of gratitude, or cheerfully used the promo materials. But which interaction kept me awake at 3 AM replaying itself on a loop? Yep. That guy.

And here’s the ridiculous truth: I know it shouldn’t bother me. I know that his grumbling doesn’t outweigh the chorus of positivity from everyone else. But still. Human nature is pesky like that. We latch onto the one sour grape in a vineyard of good wine.

So here’s my plea: if you get a chance today, don’t be that guy. Be the person who says, “Thanks for your efforts. I appreciate it.” Be the person who, when they need help, asks kindly, with just a little grace. We all have our own heavy packages to carry through life. You’ll be remembered for your kindness far longer than for your complaints.

Because trust me—nobody wants to be remembered as “that miserable dude” ten years later.

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