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You're looking at your tickets for David Sedaris' lecture on Monday. Maybe you can't go. I don't know the reason. Maybe your girlfriend surprised you with White Stripes tickets. Maybe you need an appendectomy. Maybe you're joining a cult. Maybe you're constipated. I just don't know. If you're on the fence, read on:
I can see you now. "But I don't even know this girl, why should I sell her my tickets?" you wonder, as you sip you soy chai latte or whatever it is you people drink. "Hey, I listen to NPR. I wear black rimmed glasses. I listen to Godspeed You Black Emporer. I own brown courderoy pants. I wear shirts that are three sizes too small. I paid $115 for this haircut, goddmanit. I CARRY A DICKIES MESSENGER BAG. I deserve to be at that show, and oh my god I'm totally wearing my new Diesel jacket and Adidas." (I just described myself, kinda. Funny.)
I'm not going to tell you I'm more deserving than the 50 other dumb schmucks on craigslist looking for tickets. I'm really not. But I can offer you something they can't. Guilt. This is my boyfriend, Jason. He will be sad if he can't go. Do you want this on your shoulders?
I can offer you several things in exchange for tickets. Money, for one. But that's so 1987. Vintage LP's? I'd want to keep the really good stuff, but my 45 of "Do Me" by Bel Biv Devoe is all yours. CD's? Sure! As it is I have three copies of "Staring at the Sea" by the Cure. Don't know how that happened. Books? You betcha. I even have some old Tiger Beats I'll throw in for free. Cats? I have two of them. Take them both and I'll roast you a tofurkey. Videos? Who the hell still watches movies in analog format? Me for one, I still don't have Grease 2 on DVD. Adrien Zmed in 2004!!
You can admit it. I am the coolest person in the world.
Ok, this post has gotten too stupid even for me.
I need your tickets, plz. :'(