Chicago, IL-A man of humble constitution was seen frantically weaving in and out of morning commuters as he attempted to commence his regular, shirtless morning jog on one of the busiest streets in Chicago. He definitely hadn’t been preparing his entire life for this moment. He definitely didn’t just hit L.A. Tan and certainly didn’t lightly mist his body with extra virgin olive oil for a perfect sheen.

There’s absolutely no chance he could have anticipated people accidentally gazing up at him as he pranced about while screaming the words left and right. His face contorting into an abyss of pain and anguish caused by a lifetime of eating $18 Açaí bowls and wearing only Lululemon. Decades spent perceiving himself as the messiah of leisure running.

He didn’t want any of this. He only wanted a seamless, half-naked jog on one of the most crowded streets in the city in which the pedestrians would simply stand motionless and worship his physique in silence instead of go about their normal daily routine. Inconsiderate little insects.

At least he can go to bed knowing that several people unwillingly looked at his nipples. Rest easy sweet prince, for you convinced several people you’ll never see again that you contain some moderate athletic ability.