Kev

I am in a broadcast group. We're doing something about theatre. I know nothing.

I am in group with Kev. He's smart, nice, friendly, confident, and Scottish. And I don't like him.

Not because he's Scottish, though. It's because he's trying to impress me.

He keeps talking. He tells anecdotes about elevators when we're in elevators. I mean, yeah, it's vaguely interesting, but sometimes, you have to just shut the fuck up, you know? He wants to impress people.

Anyway, he's a character. He looks like he's in his mid-30s. He's balding, covered up by a skull-and-bones bandana. He's got long girl fingernails, but I think it's a D and D thing. Wears nothing but black.

I've learned more about social interaction in an hour with Kev than throughout my life. I try to be Kev. I try to impress people. Fuck that. Life is Zen - you don't want it, you'll get it.

The way around this is to make it seem that you don't want something. Because in any relationship, there is a bitch and a butch.

No one wants the bitch. Hopefully this will reflect on how I interact with women.

Oh, and actually be funny.