Let the word get out


Did I mention that I lost my wallet last week? Oh yes, during SXSW to boot! The one time Austin becomes fanatical about the ID. I’m stuck in a city with a bar scene that must be about 20 years old, and me at thirty, can’t get it.

So to you dear, who has my ID, I have a few words of advice. Assuming my illustrious personality will not come with that piece of plastic, you should be prepared. Being me is not easy. A fair amount of people already know me in this town, so you will have a lot to live up to. And not all good.

Here are some things you should know in order to pass as me. No you do not look exactly like the picture, because in a moment of panic you freaked out and cut your hair in order to change your inner self. Obviously it didn’t work. People will tell you that you look like Joan Jet. Don’t worry about it, she’s hot. Just do your best impression of Heartbreaker and laugh a lot.

You wear your glasses only on Wednesdays, rainy days, and when you are wearing brown. Why? I don’t know. You never wear them at night, or to the movies.

Your favorite saying is “yea you” or “yea me” depending on the circumstance. This should be followed by a little chuckle. If you are hung-over your chuckle will turn into a noise, resembling a Turrets syndrome freakish mutation of previously normal laugh.

You dress depending on mood, like the rest of the free society. You will vary between complete slacker and glamour girl. The in-between state is reserved for work. Beware the ghetto bootie that you now acquired. It is a bit much. People of ethninticity will assume you are their peeps. You are not. It is a freak of nature in which you have been given the responsibility to take on. Enjoy the power of the bootie, but beware the lamentation in which you take dressing it.
Also, white girls will start quoting “Baby Got Back”. You particularly like the line that goes, “your anaconda don’t want none, unless you got buns hun.”

If you are drinking, you will feel the obligation to spread the cheer and buy people shots. Not always people you know. The people you buy them for are your new found charity. Since you have given up shots, you now feel the best way to deal with it is to buy them for other people. That way you will remember why you don’t do them. If you do take one, you are not allowed to drive anywhere. Also, please get the drinking straight. I love drinking, but lets keep in mind that I am fanatical about moderation – least you will beat yourself up the next day. If your drinking beer, please let’s have a nice one. No Bud Light or MGD. If you want alcohol, fine. Sapphire or Stoli and tonic will work, extra lime. If you have a weak tummy, go for Jack and Coke. It works every time, I have no idea why.

You love music. You love to sing. Especially to anything written or sung by a woman. Please be forewarned, you haven’t practiced enough lately to jump on stage. I would hate for you to embarrass us. You are more than welcome to sing with friends. Keep it at blues riffs and funk or soul. Anything else is questionable.

You love flowers, and have them all over your house at all times. You believe this is the one way to stay happy in the face of misery.

Oh and the most important thing. Random people love you. Men and women. For some reason you have a sign that says, “Yes, please please talk to me. I understand all”. They see it from miles around. You will average meeting five to ten new people a week. Never, never be friends with these people. They are weirdos. They will vary between homeless and super rich, but they are all the same person. Don’t let them fool you. They are the people who are trying to find out if the ghetto bootie is real.

Well, I hope it goes well for you. If you get tired of being me – just mail me my ID. I would love to have it back. Just remember: don’t wear something hideous, don’t drink cheap beer, and don’t talk to strangers. You’ll be fine, now go buy some flowers.