>I Make Don Draper Cry

>Me: Hey Don Draper, why so sad?

: You made fun of me for drinking oaky Chardonnay, not knowing that rosé wasn’t sweet, leaving bad tips, and asking for my fish to be filleted.

Me: Yeah, well, those things are fucking irritating. And they do make you look like a big idiot to the people you’re trying to impress who know more about food and wine than you do.


Me: It’s “I.” And yes they should. Do you go to your mechanic and sound like a know-it-all? Wait, nevermind. Of course you do. And your doctor? Probably that, too.

: Well, I just don’t want service people taking advantage of me because they know stuff I don’t.

Me: So you would prefer professionals whose expertise you seek to NOT have more expertise than you?

: Yes. That’s why I believe in a god that couldn’t possibly be smart enough to come up with evolution and hate uppity intellectuals who went to college and think they know how to run the country.

Me: Surely there’s some stuff you know that I don’t.

: ….

Me: You’re right. That was ridiculous. And motherfucker, you’re good-looking.


About emc

Out beyond any ideas of right-doing and wrongdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you in it.
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