Tony, he’s this guy. Sure, you may think he’s just some bro asshole douche man who at 31 lives with his parents so he can spend his $130k salary (lol, Canadian) on bottle service and trying to recreate the douchiest parts of Hangover II (which is all of them), but in fact, Tony is a Thoreauvian ascetic whose pursuit of bro weekends spent driving Lamborghinis actually means he is purer than you, because Tony has figured Life the fuck out:
Tony is better than you because he will not buy a house.
Tony is not tied down by “things” — he’s a rootin’-tootin’ manly guy who understands experiences are better than things, especially since he still has access to all the creature comforts he wants, they are just paid for by his parents instead of by him.
Tony’s thoughts — written at a length that used to be reserved for New Yorker stories until Millennials came along to take 30,000 words to plumb the meaning of that morning’s dump — were first excavated from the depths of the Toronto Life website by Phoebe Maltz Bovy at the New Republic, who points out the grand similarities between him and other ascetics like Whit Stillman. Stillman lives, ascetically, in a two-floor Paris penthouse filled with antiques owned not by him but by his presumably millionaire girlfriend, so it’s completely different.
Perhaps Tony’s inane and rambling screed isn’t meant to imply that his life philosophy — spiritually affirming, mind-expanding “experiences” over grubby little “things” — is morally superior to yours because he spends money on $200 bottles of wine instead of a “house” to “live in.” (Tony seems entirely unaware that Lamborghinis and bottles of wine are “things” as well.) Instead, perhaps Tony merely intends to say his financial strategy is superior to yours because Toronto’s housing market is a sucker’s game — it’s entirely possible his point was obfuscated because his essay was as poorly edited as it was written. And based on other idiot things we’ve read in Toronto Life over the years, Toronto’s housing market seems stupid indeed! Why not make like Italy and let mama wash your drawers till you’re 40?
We can’t bear to excerpt for you the adventures Tony thinks are superior to paying to live somewhere, but we can bear to excerpt what he thinks is a fate worse than your mom not letting you fuck a girl in your own home when you’re 31 years old:
If you’re in your late 20s or early 30s, you’re looking at two options when it comes to real estate, and both come with serious downsides. The first is to leave the city and buy somewhere in the distant reaches of the GTA. One couple I know—he’s an engineer and she’s a support worker for children with autism—bought a brown-brick four-bedroom semi with a backyard in Ajax for $500,000. They can afford a vacation now and again (they went on an all-inclusive trip to Cuba a few years back), but their nights out are limited to what Ajax has to offer. For their anniversary, they went to a hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant for a meal that cost $30, total. They have to drive absolutely everywhere, they go out on the town maybe once a month, and most of their disposable income goes toward saving for their kid’s education.
Thirty dollars for an anniversary meal? Only the occasional vacation to Cuba? Saving for their child’s college? HOW DO THEY EVEN LIVE?
Your editrix has a touch of the upright, uptight burgher to her — Adult Child of Alcoholicdom can do that to a gal — but even so, she does not believe home ownership to be the highest goal in life; nor does she believe it automatically confers the qualities of good citizenship on a couple just as soon as they fly their first American flag from the porch of their single family home.
And yet she does watch a lot of “House Hunters.” And she finds herself continuously mesmerized by Millennials whining that this four-bedroom house on the ocean has the wrong colors of interior paint and only a single vanity in the “ensuite.” (Sink. “Vanity” means sink. Because it has occurred to exactly nobody that if you have two sinks you have to CLEAN TWO SINKS.)
Your editrix is also in the process of buying a fairly modest yet extremely pleasant house near-but-not-on-a-lake that is her first. (SNUCK THAT IN AT YA, DIDN’T I!) Millennials aren’t the first generation that couldn’t afford to buy a house when they were 22 years old and still ensure it had all the double vanities and granite countertops and stainless steel refrigerators that are ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY to one’s happiness, because one has gross taste and weird entitlement issues. Why, some people can’t buy a house until they are married and a spring chickenish 43!
Tony is 31 years old. Of course it’s not necessary that he buy a house! He has no family to shelter. He can douche around the world as long as he would like to! If he doesn’t want to limit himself to $30 Thai food, he is able to spend ridiculously on every dish he cares to. He details those dishes onanistically and yet perfunctorily, as you would expect from Tony, because, I am telling you now, Tony is a TERRIBLE LAY.
Don’t keep waiting for Tony, ladies. Where he is, who he is with, what he is thinking, is he thinking of you? Tony is not thinking of you. Tony is busy grabbing LIFE by the BALLS because Tony is a boring, spoiled child with nothing interesting to do or say.