Individual Entry

People Who Still Have Blogs:

  • Me


August, 2018
July, 2018
December, 2017
September, 2017
August, 2017
May, 2017
March, 2017
December, 2016
November, 2016
August, 2016
July, 2016
April, 2016
January, 2016
December, 2015
November, 2015
October, 2015
June, 2015
May, 2015
April, 2015
February, 2015
January, 2015
December, 2014
September, 2014
August, 2014
July, 2014
June, 2014
May, 2014
April, 2014
March, 2014
February, 2014
January, 2014
December, 2013
November, 2013
October, 2013
September, 2013
August, 2013
July, 2013
June, 2013
May, 2013
November, 2012
October, 2012
September, 2012
August, 2012
July, 2012
June, 2012
March, 2012
February, 2012
January, 2012
December, 2011
November, 2011
September, 2011
August, 2011
July, 2011
June, 2011
May, 2011
April, 2011
March, 2011
February, 2011
January, 2011
December, 2010
November, 2010
October, 2010
September, 2010
August, 2010
June, 2010
May, 2010
March, 2010
February, 2010
January, 2010
November, 2009
October, 2009
September, 2009
August, 2009
July, 2009
June, 2009
May, 2009
April, 2009
March, 2009
February, 2009
January, 2009
December, 2008
November, 2008
October, 2008
September, 2008
August, 2008
July, 2008
June, 2008
May, 2008
April, 2008
March, 2008
February, 2008
January, 2008
December, 2007
November, 2007
October, 2007
September, 2007
August, 2007
July, 2007
June, 2007
May, 2007
April, 2007
March, 2007
February, 2007
January, 2007
November, 2006
October, 2006
September, 2006
August, 2006
July, 2006
June, 2006
May, 2006
April, 2006
March, 2006
February, 2006
January, 2006
November, 2005
October, 2005
September, 2005
August, 2005
July, 2005
June, 2005
March, 2005
January, 2005
December, 2004
November, 2004
August, 2004
July, 2004
June, 2004
May, 2004
April, 2004
March, 2004
February, 2004
January, 2004
December, 2003
November, 2003
October, 2003
September, 2003
August, 2003
July, 2003
May, 2003
April, 2003
March, 2003
February, 2003
January, 2003
December, 2002

Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional
Valid CSS

Poser v Poser

It all started, when a boy at my L stop asked me where I got my "You are being lied to" shirt.

When I told him I got it from the site "", that seemed to be all the credentials he needed. Clearly, I was a hardcore punk rocker.

This is, of course, completely wrong. From my "101010" hat, to my khaki pants, to my polished black Clarks, I may as well be wearing a "Caution, Poser" sandwich board.

As the boy left this apraisal of me unspoken, I didn't feel a need to correct him. Afterall, what harm could come from a 12-13 year old boy believing that *I* was hardcore?

His worship of me started small at first. Attempts at ackward small talk. Walking back and forth infront of me while I listened to my headphones or read a book.

Deathly afraid any prolonged interaction would reveal my true nature to him, and stop the worship, I continued to pretend to not notice him, and his clumbsy attempts at getting my attention.

This worked for a month or two.

However, a few weeks ago, the boy upped the ante.

It started off as normal. Me listening to my headphones, the boy walking past me a couple times. Eventually the boy stopped pacing, and began to inch closer to me. Again, I paid no notice.

That is, until I smelled something pungent. The sharp spike of a permanent marker being used.

I looked over, and the boy had just "tagged" an empty while billboard space with "Vegan FOREVR". The boy was staring at me, marker in hand, presumably waiting for my judgement.

I gave a slight smile, and returned to listening to my headphones.

A few days later. A simliar thing happened. The train arrived, and the boy got on the same train as I. He didn't take a seat, instead he stooped by one of the doors, hidden from the rest of the train by the dividers, except to me. A few minutes later, he plopped down in the seat beside me. His "NO WAR" tag, clearly visible on the door.

Just this morning, I saw the boy down the street as I was entering the L station. Presumably he saw me.

After a few minutes of reading, I spotted him. Not inching towards me along the platform as usual, but as a white shirted ghost coming at me from the side of the tracks.

Presumably he had jumped the fence, and was now running up by the tracks, leaping the third rail, running to the end of the platform, and climbing up.

A middle aged woman was squacking at him, and as he passed me, he craned his neck, watching me, even walking backwards a bit, as if to be certain not to miss my secret hardcore punk signal that he was officially "punk" now.

So, there we have it. A child of punk, desperately trying to gain the punk affections of his presumed local punk diety. Whose knowledge of punk music was atained solely from a short 3 month relationship 5 years ago.

In order to assure this lad doesn't attempt anything more dangerous, action needs to be taken.

I need to send a decisive message to this boy, that I am not who he thinks I am.

So that's why, this weekend, I will goto the mall, find a store selling "Tommy Hilfiger" stuff, and buy a full outfit of it.

Kyle, the punk poser, fashion Jesus, signing off.

No comments yet:


Meta Information:

Title: Poser v Poser
Date posted: 09 May '03 - 10:56
Filed under: General
Word Count: 582 words
Good Karma: 95 (vote)
Bad Karma: 101 (vote)
Next entry:  Kyle in the Big City
Previous entry:  Your view of the world defines you.