At the auto service shop…
Me: “I’m here to pick up my majestic Dodge Neon.”
Man behind counter: (starts laughing hysterically)
Me: (deadpan) “I don’t understand what’s so funny.”
I love my car. Truly, transcendentally love my car. It’s ripped up in the back and covered in liberal bumper stickers.
I like that I don’t have to worry about it, because it’s already trashed by its very nature.
The front bumper is all cracked up. When I asked the car people if it would pass inspection, they said “yes, but it won’t be very pretty.” Ha. I said, “Okay. Leave it as-is.”
I backed into a dumpster once. My friends freaked out; but I laughed it off, because, like, it’s not like the situation could get much worse, right?
I also really dig shitty art supplies. Like, the $5 watercolor cake sets and the 64-packs of Crayola crayons. The acrylics I use are called “Basic Value Color.”
These drawings? All of the above, applied to printer paper.
I hypothesize that, as a teenager, I took Fight Club‘s “the things you own, own you” line a little too seriously.
“Fine,” I said to myself, “I won’t own anything nice, then. No biggie.”
Except my phone. My phone is pretty nice, except for, perhaps, its silicone panda case. YOLO.