1. Conversations about your tired old band
Scene: Lou's Lounge. Old acquaintance asks me to buy a ticket to see his band play at the Social. Hands me a CD. Later asks me if I can buy the CD he just gave me.
Reaction: I know I sound like a dick, but I find it a bit sad when I run into old friends trying to make it big in their bands. How I see it? If you've played the Social more than 10 times in the past 10 years, you're either A) Lucero; or B) never going to be famous. My guess is that you are not Lucero. My guess is that you somehow missed the boat, you're stuck here forever (unless you move somewhere else, where you still won't be famous) and somewhere there is another band that sounds just like yours, only they became famous. If you're still playing just because you love music, that's great. If it has been 10 years and you're looking for a record deal while your hair is falling out? Stop. Just stop it.
2. Stupid arguments
Scene: At the Imperial.
“Who cuts your hair?” my friend Dave asks me.
“Oh, I don't go to hair-cuttery people, I ruin it myself,” I reply jokingly. I have no idea that someone is eavesdropping on the mundane conversation my friend and I are having.
“They have a name, Meghan,” Tyson, the barback, says.
“What? Who has a name?” I ask. I have no idea what he's talking about.
“How would you like it if we called you a writery person?” Brett, the bartender, chimes in.
“Uh, I wouldn't care?” I answer, confused and still not realizing my drastic faux pas.
“They are called hair stylists, Meghan,” Tyson tells me sternly.
Reaction:I realize that I'd just be a pot calling the kettle black if I were to say, “No. They are called college dropouts.” So instead I opt for an insincere, “Ah, I'm sorry. Hair stylists. My mistake.”
3. What the hell is your name?
Scene: Brunch at Hue. Random person approaches me. “Hey, how've you been?”
Reaction: Shit. I have no idea who the fuck you are.
Let's do this: If I say hi, but you can tell I don't remember you, let it go. If only for the sake of not making you look like an indistinguishable loser and me like a forgetful asshole in front of our friends.
4. High-school classmate run-ins
Scene: One Eyed Jacks, “Oh my god Meghan, I haven't seen you in forever!”
Reaction:It is my firm belief that everyone I went to high school with drank moron Kool-Aid after they graduated. I mean that. I need someone to explain to me why 90 percent of my old classmates are idiots. Why is it that on Facebook they are the only ones still playing Farmville? Why can't they spell or type a witty status update to save their lives? Why have all of their profile pics been replaced by bad black-and-white family portraits of themselves with their husbands and their two children, all wearing white and lying in the grass together? Social networks aside, the real reason I'd like to avoid old high-school classmates is because we were never friends to begin with. Let's not waste time bullshitting and pretending that we were.