I had the pleasure of interacting with a bystander in my life that claimed that the only reason I liked David Sedaris was because his books were on sale at Urban Outfitters. I use the term “bystander” to describe people in my life who are like human furniture in the background. They’re around. They’re lurking back there somewhere forcing me to interact with them in a cursory type manner, but they are not real active people in my life. Furniture is interchangeable and so are these people.
In any case, what I wanted to say to said bystander was, “Nice thought, douche, but believe it or not, David Sedaris’s books can be bought at other retail outlets. His work is not solely sponsored by our dear friends at Hipster Central.”
I cringe to think that people may overlook Sedaris’s brilliant work because it happens to be in Urban Outfitters on the same shelf as the picture book of penises, which by the way we shouldn’t automatically judge to be poor literature/art anyway. (This is probably another topic for another post on another day.)
His books are at Urban. So, what? An asshole with his plaid shirt, smug self-entitlement, and skinny boy jeans in the damn store in the first place buying another hip trendy knit cap is going to discredit books that are being sold at the very store that supplies his hipster wardrobe/ forced lifestyle? Contradiction? Paradox? Douche baggery?
Oh, yes. I think so.
Read his essays. They are fucking hilarious. His work inspires me every day to talk more shit.
David Sedaris should be given the acclaim he deserves especially from douches that haven’t even read his work or douches that claim they read voraciously, but actually only look up books on Wikipedia for plot summaries.
You douches suck. Sedaris rocks.
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