I am writing to apologize. While you too were spending your Friday night at the Best Buy perusing BluRay discs, you at least were in the company of two openly nerdy friends, whereas I was alone, and listening in. Also, I was gassy, so if you detected a smell coming from A-D, I was having a reaction to Aeon Flux.
When your two openly nerdy friends (A nerd couple! A rarity!) asked if anyone had seen THX 1138 you described it as weird. This description was apt, and totally fair. I am apologizing because of my unnecessary commentary. Without looking up at any of you, I added, simplistically: “I am forced to agree. It is super weird.”
Your friends recovered amiably by saying “Well, at least we are prepared for weird!” and then you, all three, moved on to the the recent TV releases.
I should also apologize because THX 1138 is less super weird and more a disappointing fondling from a first cousin at a wedding reception in 1992. George Lucas has already fondled enough cousins. I was thinking of your mental health.
When I arrived at the till carrying only 3 out of the 6 Star Wars films, you bravely decided to try me on about why I had not purchased the boxed set of all six films and the accompanying disc of lost, close-up footage of Mark Hamill’s lunch tray.
I commend your fearless leap into the murky waters of my deepest, most abiding nerdiness, especially given the lecture which you were about to receive. I am yet more impressed that you opened yourself up to this assault in front of your female coworker ,who, incidentally, you cannot possibly have been scoring any points with no matter how much you delude yourself that you were slowly winning her over. I know of which I speak, it doesn’t work, I site the landmark case of RobbieRobTown vs. About 4 different girls in High School.
First, in regards to your coworker, I had an unfair advantage. She was 19 or perhaps 20, and I am a devastatingly carefully contrived hipster. The leather jacket alone might have been enough, but then I had an opinion, a funny one, and I didn’t appear to care what she thought of me. (Protip: I actually didn’t care at all what she thought of me). Clerk, there is no way you could have competed with 5 o’clock shadow and a mile wide attitude. For all she knew, I was baked under my Raybans, and I was an ex-alcoholic. 19 year olds eat that shit up because they are retarded. Why Raybans? Carefully contrived. Why sunglasses indoors? They are prescription, and I am blind.
I tried to let you off easy. Here is a transcript for your files:
You: Oh, hey, so, you like star wars, eh?
Me: (soft pitching you) Yeah man, some of my favourite movies when I was a kid.
You: So, you don’t have the whole set here. They are on sale!
Me: (Giving you an out) NO, I don’t. These are my favourite.
You: Oh, so, like, you like the ones with Harrison Ford in them? (To your lady friend) It’s Harrison Ford, right?
Her: (NO help there, she is making then breaking eye contact with me)
Me: (beginning to smell burning toast) Yes.
You: (trying to spark a debate?) So, you’re not a fan of the first ones.
Me: No. I kind of prefer to imagine they never really happened.
You: What do you mean?
Me: Like apocryphal texts. They aren’t part of the canonical whole. (yes, I said that, I have had this exact same conversation before, so my thesis is concise)
Me: And I resent the changes to the narrative, no matter how small. Still have the old VHS to see Greedo never shoots at all.
You: (changing the subject) I see you also have “X-Men: First Class”.
Me: Yep. Big fan.
You: Oh yeah?
Me: (Deciding not to explain my website.) Yep. Have a good one guys.
Her: Muh- Yeh! Bye! (regretting that)
You: Thank you! (Thank you?)
With all due respect, I appreciate your attempt at a personal sales connection, and I hope that you understand that I am a crusty, angry old nerd. I would not likely have defended my territory so fiercely had it not been Star Wars. Sadly, It was, you asked, you persisted, and I have the script memorized.
As for your lady friend, if you can’t afford a leather jacket, take up smoking. No proper woman will buy that, but a 19 year old is not a woman, she is a floundering baby duckling in a sea of cocks.
Dear Deutsche Grammophon Company:
I like grammophon companies, but I often find myself wishing yours was a bit deutschier.
Could you enhance the deutschesque nature of your product, perhaps with some old fashioned Certified Gramophone Brand (TM) DeutscheWax? Or perhaps some New Imperial Deutsching Powder?
Also, I note you use the Emerson String Quartet extensively. Are Lake and Palmer involved?
Sincerely to you all,