HOW TO LIVE THE LIFE; or, ON READING AUTHENTICITY

"what do you have for scotch?" the menu was just a beer and cocktail list. "what do you like?" "i don't know, i've never had any." "just branching out?" "no, i'm trying to get literary drunk, and i thought that would be a good place to start." "should i just have the bartender recommend something?" "moderately priced. ask the bartender for a moderately priced scotch." even though i'd been assured that literary drunk was like rich drunk in that it's ok to drive afterwards, i'm no rich literary drunk.

the scotch was warming like people say it's supposed to be. that's the effect that i noticed until my appointment tapped me on the shoulder and indicated his table. i don't know what to say about what we said to each other. there was no shortage of words, for sure. it was just that sort of a meeting. and a first meeting, at that, so there was more than enough material for conversation.

he brought me books. i shouldn't have put them away so quickly, in case our conversation alone wasn't enough to convince the staff and non-literary clientele of the victory of our credentials. being literary requires donning the pretensions of elite culture without owning any shares in its means. there are of course wealthy members of the literary set (the rich literary drunks that i'm not), but on any occasion they are resolutely more one than the other (that is, more literary or more rich) and can be judged in their authenticity by their every pattern of speech and behavior. but since authenticity requires pretense, the act is a delicate one, rich or not. we succeeded -- i think -- without any need for props. thanks scotch. where would we have been had i opted for the well?

the scotch and two whiskeys and michael asks if i'm literary drunk yet. "i think so. yes." we had two (?) more whiskeys to be safe before we started drinking beer. everything started on the record after we were sure we were there, but you can listen to the recordings for details -- or read their distillations later, that, after all, (which is to say writing), was the purpose of our night. that and jonathan franzen's glasses. portland does have a characteristic style, doesn't it? "the hipsters here seem happier."

ha! i'll have to stay for a while then. "stop, though. tranny, i know there's no company card."