Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Swank's Guide to the Hate Life, Volume 4

Posted By on Wed, May 30, 2012 at 3:44 PM

See also: Volume 1, Volume 2 and Volume 3. To find out how to live the Hate Life properly, email cream[at]nashvillescene[dot]com with "Ask Swank" in the subject line.

Dear Swank,

What is the best way to give a guy my number? Will he prefer a direct technique or something that requires more effort and pursuit on his part? Or should I just not give a guy my number until he asks for it? How can I tell if he is interested in me enough to pitch my digits?

Sincerely,

Digits to Spare

Write it on a piece of paper and wad it up in a ball, being careful to not damage the structural integrity of the number itself, and place it in your mouth, additionally being careful to not over-saturate with saliva. Then walk up behind your target, gently place one hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and then sexily go into a gagging, puking fit and upchuck the number into his pint of beer. It might help to loosen a tooth with a pair of pliers beforehand, so when you do the big spew a rooty, bloody tooth will be floating in the head of his beer like a hilarious little fishing bobber. Laughs all around and you’ll be hitting the sheets in no time!

Swank,

Where can I get a good cowboy hat in town?

I don’t know. But I can tell you where to get the first fucking Greyhound out of town ...

There are so many people in town that I hate, how do I deal with this so I’m not getting in drunken brawls all the time?

Thanks,

Miss Ann Thropic

Now this is a good question. You see THIS question, cowboy hat guy? This is for you.

Well, “Ann” (aren’t you clever?), you can either never go out and binge-eat the fuck out of some mac 'n' cheese, or just learn to put up with people. Neither seems like a good option, really. You know, one thing that I find works pretty good is backhanded compliments. Like, if some dude is wearing an ironic Stones Steel Wheels T-shirt from the late '80s, I’ll all happily be like, “Sweet shirt dude!”... It’s like an insult grenade. It’ll be minutes later and he’ll be a good 10 feet away from me before he realizes I think he’s a piece of shit. By then, he’s not gonna come back and say anything. Everyone wins, he knows he sucks, and I don’t have to get in a fight about it.

But you know, regardless, you’re kind of screwed, 'cause everyone is a masochist. The less interest you show in them, the more they want to be around you. You’re just gonna have to drink the Kool-Aid and smile and be nice and pretend you care that you missed their BBQ and “Oh damn please invite me next time you go swimming at the indie lake.” Or whatever people do. I just like sitting home and eating mac and cheese and watching Network Awesome with my girlfriend.

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