You're Not Going to Make it After All!

Attention future baristas of America, leaving Cleveland(or any other culturally rich enclave of the flyover) to head for the east coast is less of a pipe dream and more of a toilet aspiration. We all know them. The bright shining stars who think riding the subway is some sort of magical ride on the back of a mythical graffiti covered dragon, who think hailing a taxi is akin to fighting a bull in Madrid, who think dipping one toe into Harlem grants them a ghetto pass. They tire of their menial office jobs, their boring friends who don't watch the Sundance channel, and their crappy apartments that run them a whole 600 bucks a month for above third world living conditions. They long to blog about their exciting adventures using wi fi in a Greenwich Village coffee shop(without even buying a drink, those rebels!), smoke a joint with a weird hippie in the shadow of the Lincoln memorial, or subsist on nothing but naan and Nutella in their squalor ass apartment that they share with five other lost souls. They schlep their barren, cobwebbed wombs all over town wishing they could meet a "real man"(not the sports obsessed workaholics of Ohio, but a hetero version of McDreamy prancing around Ground Zero). To them, life is an Amy Adams movie where a scone given to them by a wise old Jewish woman unlocks the secrets to their true boundless potential. Then when you come to visit(which they practically beg for every time you talk to them) they can act like a big shot who knows where they sell the really authentic Azerbaijani peasant soup(not like the fake crap in Ohio) and act so bored by all the tourist traps they take you to. Yes, these ex pats are the most annoying people in those big cities. They ask how things are back home(even though they just came home for Christmas last month so mom and dad would give them money) and say, "yeah, I just couldn't be ME there." Fucking twats is what they are. And here is your come uppance, twats.

They are mostly delusional girls reared on SATC or gay boys( whom I don't blame one bit. I know that homophobic strongholds like Minneapolis, Austin and Denver can be stifling to that dream you have of creating the best set design ever for Mama Mia ). Though I have known a handful of straight men to leave for greener pastures, it is usually for a woman. Which is acceptable. So is moving for a job. But moving to a coastal city just to be part of a scene is sadder than showing up underdressed at a fancy party. You look pathetic. This kind of behavior was very prevalent in my early twenties. Back then I watched everyone come back home with their tail between their legs in utter defeat some four years later. Now there is a new wave of thirty somethings who want to chase that checkered cab fantasy, because they can't stand being an adult. Nothing worse than someone trying to hang out in a scene they are too old for. Ever see pics of Tony Bennett at Studio 54? Yeah. That's you. Sorry folks, grown up life is pretty routine. Running away to Brooklyn(how tired is that place anyway?) or Frisco or Boston isn't going to change that. Unless you plan to go into porn. And most of you aren't attractive enough to even be in porn. They think if they knock on the front door of the White House, Basketball Barry will just usher them right into their corner office at the Department of Girls Smarter than their Grandma. "Would you like to try a larger size, maam?" Get used to saying that. That English degree you earned at Backwater University isn't going to land you that dream job at Cosmo.

They post pics of themselves in front of CBGB's(which I could hardly be bothered to look away from the porn I have open in another window to even care about). They post(to them) deep haikus about their revelatory life(or more often quote indie rock lyrics) in said megalopolis. They come home every three months to soak up the novelty of their home towns just so they don't "lose themselves" in the dizzying kaleidoscope of craziness they see in the "big city". Oh shit, a tranny fight outside of  Subway or some guy playing Beethoven on his keytar app outside of Yankee stadium! How. Utterly. Fucking. Amazing. I am in so much envy right now I can hardly stand living in my affordable house. Your Ipod has so many songs about your new life. "Tenement Girl", "Finding my Way in the Maze", "Metamorphosis f/ Rihanna and the L.A. Philharmonic". Omigod, you saw Freddie Prinze Jr. at Walgreens!! Let me just fasten my noose right now.

You might say "sour grapes, eh Mau?" "You're just mad that you're stuck in Cleveland." I say, lick my shaft, loser. I have travelled the whole country. The WHOLE country. From LA to Dallas to Hannibal to Richmond to Philly. You know what I found out? They all have Targets. Well, not Hannibal. They all have illiterate local news anchors, cool neighborhoods(and gentrified yuppie hell holes), and amazing food! And also shitty food. Lots of shitty food. And lots of shitty bands. Just like Cleveland. So why uproot myself to go live almost the same life somewhere else just because I saw it on the Travel Channel(the dumbed down app of cable networks)? But shouldn't people follow their dreams? Sure, if you have the talent or perserverence to make that dream reality. Here's the sad truth. 99% of you don't. If you want to really matter, and I mean MATTER...grow up, get real, and contribute to the place you're from(except for Detroit, get the fuck out of there). Or else get used to packing that IHOP uniform when you come home to dullsville to do your laundry.

And just remember, when you leave Cleveland, you're the same as this guy.