Review Mode: Carson Drops a Brag into an Anecdote About How Bragging’s Bad
If someone’s not impressed by you, you actually can’t make them impressed by telling them how impressed they should be.
Welcome to Review Mode, a biweekly newsletter where I mark up my social interactions, mining my, like, medical-grade self-monitoring for your reading pleasure.
The other day, I had an interaction on a date that I thought was gonna be a total mic drop moment. The other person really didn’t really care. So, I let it go and moved on. No, I’m kidding — can you imagine?
Look, obviously my self-esteem’s not awesome. You know the conceit of this newsletter. About 70% of the time, my ego’s set to “I’m the worst,” and another 20%, it’s set to, “Well, I’m not my cup of tea, but hey, to each their own.”
But there are those moments where my ego’s set to “I’m an amazing genius. You’re welcome.” I’ve got a vain streak, and it’s super un-cute.
So, I was on a date in a park1. Kind of a picnic vibe. My date was bringing food he’d cooked, so in an effort to at least contribute something, I offered to bring the beer.2
I was running late for the date, though. In my haste, I bought the first beer I saw at the bodega: a 6-pack of crown-cap bottles we’d need an opener to actually drink. I did not, however, bring an opener. So really, all I brought us was a test of our ingenuity.
I noticed the problem almost immediately. I totally could’ve found another store and bought us different beers. I didn’t.
I do sometimes have kind of a blind confidence around these things. Like, I just assume that, if a solution to a problem could theoretically exist, then that problem’s effectively solved.
I figured, “We’ll for sure find a way to get the bottles open with whatever we have on hand.”
We didn’t. What we did find was the many different ways you can stab, scrape, and cut yourself trying to open a beer bottle with whatever you have on hand. We went through all the napkins my date had so thoughtfully brought trying to staunch our wounds.
So, we came to plan B — turn to community in our time of need. As in, ask passersby3 if they have an opener.
Coming towards us was a nice-looking queer couple. (Or friends? I guess it’s all assumptions. They could’ve even both been straight, but I doubt it, given the following). They had a backpack, which seemed like a good sign.
I shouted from the bench where my date and I were sitting, “Excuse me! Does either of you have a bottle opener.”
They seemed startled and taken aback. Understandably. I didn’t ask gracefully.
Still, they were nice about it. One of them answered “No, sorry. But I like your comedy!”
(See? Queer.)
As they walked on, I thought, Okay, that’s the coolest way that could’ve possibly gone.
I mean, this was a second date. Being recognized on a second date?? That’s gotta buy me some credit.
My date, however, didn’t seem that impressed. Like, he wasn’t rude about it or anything. Not aggressively unimpressed, like What, you think that makes you special? Just, that particular kind of validation didn’t mean much to him. Which probably speaks well to his character.
But me, I’d had my moment in the spotlight, and I wasn’t ready to let it go. Kinda giving Norma Desmond. I needed to keep that shine a little longer.
So, I said all smugly, “That interaction really couldn’t have made me look better.”
It could have, of course. I could have asked more politely. They could have had a bottle opener. I could have brought a bottle opener in the first place, rather than having to accost strangers while I was dripping with blood.
My date smiled politely and changed the subject.
God dammit.
I could’ve been so slick, too. I could’ve let the moment lie there, sooo casual, so it would seem like that kind of thing happens to me all the time. Instead, I made myself look all needy and insecure.
And I don’t wanna look needy and insecure on a second date! That’s fourth date shit.
The Lesson That I Should but Probably Won’t Learn from This: Play it cool.
Mmm, no. We need a more achievable goal. How bout this? Only gloat if the other person’s actually impressed.
Carson’s Life Updates:
I was going to write this week’s Review Mode about who gets to cry in public when terrible things happen in the world and who has to be in the role of offering support. It would’ve been a real drag. Then I remembered that there are people who are way better at being a thoughtful bummer than I am. You’re welcome for not doing that.
Next Friendly’s is tomorrow (Wed. 4/23)! Lineup legitimately goes even harder than we meant it to. Jay Jurden, Julia Shiplett, Grace Johnson, Conor Janda, Micah Eames. It’s gonna be a really good one. Tix here.
We did ultimately find someone with a bottle opener.
The Boilerplate
Carson Olshansky (still they/them, despite the haters) is a Brooklyn-based comedian and writer. You can follow them at @carsonolshansky on Instagram and TikTok and at @carson-olshansky on YouTube.
Mom, don’t get upset. It was a crowded park in broad daylight.
Law enforcement, don’t get upset. It was a park in a place where that was legal. A park in New Orleans. I went to New Orleans for this date.
Regular readers of this newsletter and its footnotes can probably guess how much joy it brings me to get to use this plural noun..
Your quip was hilarious. But glad you didn't think so and shared with us. Your date should've replied, you had me at aggressively shouting at strangers. :)