So I’ve been like thinking a lot about the state of healthcare in America, and I don’t think that’s going to surprise anyone, because it’s kind of a total cris. No it’s short for ‘crisis.’ Well sometimes I don’t have time to finish the word. I kinda think abbreviations make me seem more casual and breezy like leaving the top button of your shirt undone or unzipping your fly at a cocktail party. Super chill, very James Bond meets Philip Seymour Hoffman.
So anyway back to health. At first I felt pretty powerless about the whole cris, because I’m not a doctor or a pharmaceutical company, or someone whose brain is fully functional, but then I was at this class the other day where a bunch of hipsters get together and make these hideously ugly chandeliers out of zip-ties. Of course the fucking chandelier is a total front for the reason that they’re actually there, which is the same reason that hipsters gather anywhere, which is to try to figure out who knows more about Pitchfork’s top 25 albums of 2009 than anyone else in the room. You have to be pretty stealth about it though, because asking a direct question is like super gauchey. You basically have to steal someone’s iPod to find out how many Animal Collective songs they have or if they’re one of those “people” who just buys the single, and then says things like, “Yeah I totally love The Smiths. Have you ever seen 500 Days of Summer?” And you respond with, “I think I just threw-up in my mouth, but it was all stomach acid, because I haven’t eaten anything in 3 weeks. Does that answer your question?”
This is where things got a bit dicey, because I was just putting Jerome’s iPhone back after noting his song preferences in cuneiform in my Moleskin, and he saw me. I didn’t even know he was looking at me because he had been wearing super dark shades the whole time, and his inert posture pretty much had me and everyone else convinced that he was asleep, but of course we didn’t discuss this or even really think it to ourselves, as that would be pretty uncool, and would totally mar the bored facial expression I had been cultivating for the last 20 minutes. Turns out he was awake, and he got super pissed, and actually came after me, which was pretty unexpected, because honestly most hipsters are too malnourished to fight or even to speak sometimes, so you can imagine my surprise when this dude starts tottering toward me like a rabid coyote who having gone without meat for a week has suddenly come upon an overweight Bambi with two broken legs.
I don’t necessarily condone what I did next with the broken tiles the next class was going to use to mosaic their skinny jeans, but how would you have responded to someone advancing on you with their iSaber app at the ready? I was looking for the iKill, but realized I had forgotten to download it so the tile shard was really my only option.
I’m not saying that Jerome bleeding out on the sidewalk because his band didn’t provide him with benefits was a blessing in disguise, but the DIY transfusion I tried to do with a pushpin and some rubber cement is gonna keep me in free PBRs for months.