Op-ed: Sometimes I see Nigel Hayes in public and I’m too nervous to tell him he’s one cool dude

It happened again today. I can’t remember where, it all happened so fast. I was caught off guard. For a split second I thought he was a normal person, but as soon as my brain could process the awe, I was a goner. He didn’t look at me. I don’t know why he would ever look at me, but I could tell he was looking at something. God, I bet his eyesight is outstanding.

Think about it. This epitome of a cool dude was put under the insurmountable pressure of being asked questions on television, and managed to come off as funny and charming. Remember that stenographer shit? Woah. Also he’s pretty good at basketball, but I’d say he’s more of a cool dude than a basketball player. Like, a lot of people can toss a ball, but nobody can be as cool of a dude as Nigel Hayes.

When I recovered from being so starstruck, I saw the lost opportunity flash before my eyes. I decided to write it in screenplay form.


A lonely, average looking college student sits on a lawn, desperate for purpose. This is Paul. He eyes a packet of cigarettes within arms reach. He checks to make sure nobody is looking, then reaches over to grab it. An unseen hand, emanating beauty, slaps it out of his hand. He looks up to see NIGEL HAYES. He stutters profusely.


Hey, you got your whole life ahead of you. Smoking kills.


Nigel- Nigel I have so many things to tell you.


I’d love to listen to you, but I have so many other people to save. I’m sorry.

Angel wings burst out of Nigel’s back. He flies away. Paul screams out at him.


Hey Nigel! You’re one cool dude!

Nigel, still in earshot, screams back, suddenly accompanied by a stenographer.


Cattywampus, onomatopoeia, and antidisestablishmentarianism!


Paul, now president, sits on his desk. A old, grizzly cigarette lobbyist enters holding a canvas bag with a dollar sign on it. He also has 6 cigars in his mouth.


(mumbling through the cigars) This is all yours if you just put tobacco in the water supply.


No. A cool dude once told me that cigarettes kill. Secret service, kill this uncool dude.

The secret service shoots a cigarette out of a gun, right through the asshole’s heart. Paul looks at the eagle on the carpet. It’s figure turns into the angelic Nigel Hayes and winks.


Steven Spielberg, if you’re reading this, I’m looking for a director. Nigel Hayes, if you’re reading this, uhh… hi.