Snappy Answers to Questions of Douchebaggery
I'm generally much nicer to random strangers than I am to even my closest friends. Maybe that seems like a character flaw to you, but I'm sure it's one of my strongest traits.
I'm doing my part to make the world go 'round, which is a tougher role than always playing the Mr. Nice Guy pseudo-shrink confidant to a select group of people whose tiresome problems always seem to overrun your life. You're bogged down in a tapestry of personal histories, but I'm living out some Smile Begets a Smile/Pay It Forward faux hippie shit that will no doubt save the city from ruin. No doubt.
I like random interaction; interconnectivity. I collect new friends on the city's subways and buses. Should you need directions, I'll Mapquestingly guide you from the spot you're standing to the door of your destination (provided I know the way, which is altogether unlikely, and provided that place has a door, which I guess is likely). Homeless people love my loose change and charming demeanor, and street musicians and performers benefit from my ability to be easily impressed and lack of anywhere else to be.
Basically, if you're a random person on the street, and you want someone with whom to converse, I'll play your leading man (or leading lady, though that requires a cash donation of at least 75 cents). Lately, however, I've been extremely annoyed by two separate groups of people that hang out on Bleecker Street near my apartment, and I've started lashing out against both groups this week.
The first are Random Cigarette Bummers. Unless I'm down to my last couple, I'm usually fine parting with a cigarette for your temporal enjoyment. I understand there are some legit people out there who simply run out and want just one before buying a new pack, but at $7.50 a pack, you've got some balls to be mooching on a full-time basis. And now I'm getting a little ornery.
Listen, fuckfaces, just because I'm the schmuck that's still buying cigarettes doesn't give you the right to ask for my things. So twice this week I've had this exchange in front of my apartment:
"Hey, do you have an extra cigarette I can bum?"
"Nah, sorry. Oh, you know what, I heard you can actually buy them right in this store here. This one right here."
"Um, okay, thanks anyway."
"Ask if you can bum from them first..."
Reactions? Both times it was as if I told that person to fuck themselves with a dildo the size of Anderson Cooper. Folks, a word of advice: If you're going to quit smoking, then quit smoking. Next time you ask me for a cigarette I'm countering with, "Oh shit, I quit carrying around money last week, can you spare me a dollar?" They got a name for that...It's called a bum, Jules.
The second group consists of those dudes on Bleecker and MacDougal that insist on handing me fliers for the seemingly endless parade of amateur comedy shows. Allright, I get it, you look like Dave Chapelle, you must be funny. But, no, I'm not coming to your show just so I can buy two drinks, pay a cover and beg someone to repeatedly jab my testicles with a sewing needle. So the other day I decided to fight back against these humor guerillas:
"Hey hey, check out our comedy show tonight, right down the street, 10 funny comedians and strong drinks, check it out, check it out."
"Is the show based on looks?"
"What's that mean?"
"I'm asking if it's a looks-based show. If so, I bet it'd be real funny."
"Why you gotta be such a dick, man?"
"Oh, c'mon, you're a fucking comedian, you can't take that shit?"
"That's fucking rude."
"Have a good show tonight. I'd change my shirt before going on stage, that one looks ridiculous on you."
I've lost all respect for the flier comedians. I mean, you can't take a little innocent rogering in jest from a dipshit like me? Now instead, I'm gonna pepper you and your friends with jabs every time I pass until either I get tired of it or one of you takes a swing at me.
Now I'm just waiting for the day one of those fucks tries to bum a smoke off of me. I better start thinking of witty retorts now.
Slack Link of the Day: Good fucking lord, talk about validating the age-old Jewish stereotypes...here we see The Perils of Using JDate.
Slack Video of the Day: I went out to Lawn Gisland last night for a dinner with the family, where we discussed the old days of boxing. We couldn't come up with which pugilist challenged Rocky Marciano's 49-0 record as a heavyweight, and it turned out to be Larry Holmes. Most people 40 and older remember Holmes as a long-time heavyweight champion, mostly beating up losers, but a champion nonetheless. I remember Holmes like this, one of my favorite videos of all-time.
Slack Song of the Day: Another eclectic and questionable mix from StreamStash -- Award Tour (Tribe), The Sheik of Araby (Django Reinhardt), Sussudio & Against All Odds (Phil Collins), Key To The Highway (Derek & The Dominos), The W.S. Wolcott Medicine Show (The Band), and everyone's favorite MTV video, November Rain (GnR).