//------------------------------// // Vinyl, on Meeting Her Friend at Stacks // Story: Dream On: Vinyl and Tavi's Private Weblog // by Koiyuki //------------------------------// When I was a kid, my dad, a DJ at the local radio station, always made sure to take me along when he went record shopping, introducing me to a lot of neat little hole in the wall joints. While we bonded, we discussed junk like how I was doing in school, and I always appreciated how no matter much of a moron I was about it, he talked with me, and not at me, even when I asked stuff like "Can boys give me cooties?" Anyways, once he settled on what he wanted to add to his collection, coming home to listen to his hauls was always the highlight of my day, so when I met up with you, I knew I eventually wanted to share that kind of joy. I still remember that wide eyed look you gave me when you asked, "Is this what they call a record store?" and took in the full spectrum of music that Stacks served up to its customers(including me, when I got into the business). Lucky for us, they had the sampler machine and its accompanying app fully set up, so all we had to do was pick our selections from that funky looking menu, and groove. I was expecting to have to enlighten you on some of the more soulful stuff there, but the more I heard your selections coming through the cans, the more pleasantly surprised I grew at your musical range, more so when we strolled through the R&B section, and you mentioned how much your dad enjoyed pumping The Stylistics when you were little. The chat that sparked feels like it happened yesterday, with how fresh it is in my mind. Me being as unenlightened to how the upper crust got down as I was in those days, I busted out, "Yo, I didn't know they played that kinda music where you come from" "You would be surprised how worldly some people can be, as I'm sure plenty would be shocked someone like you is capable of not shoveling your food into your craw amongst company" "Says the woman who let out thunder burps after her first plate of Chili Cheese Fries. Seriously, it was like someone set your mouth speaker to eleven" "It's not my fault you enjoy such gaseous foodstuffs. I'm used to more refined fare at my school" "Like what? A tiny plate of Filet Mignon? C'mon, now, I know that ain't how it goes for you at school." "Heh, I suppose. May I ask how your own schooling is going?" "About as well as you'd expect for someone hustling for gigs while trying not to fail too hard" "Oh goodness. Is Pon-3 not getting enough customers these days?" "On the contrary, that side hustle has been consistent for me. But the more I watch my dad work, the more I feel like I should embrace my musical side, you know? A couple of Pon-3's contacts even hooked me up with Fruity Loops, and a couple other music making programs for my iPepper. Now I'm just bucking around, and see what I can pop out. How about for you?" "Well, I can't really say for certain whether it's good or bad. I have a few chums I speak with in between classes, but I also seem to have drawn the ire of a few other classmates" "What do you mean by 'ire'?" "Recently, a couple of the nouveau riche students were being picked on for their manner of speaking, so I invited them to sit with me for lunch, so could show how a few things on proper etiquette. Ever since I did, the people who were picking on them started picking on me for associating with them" "So they make fun of 'em for how they talk, you try to correct them, and decide to pick on you because of it? Yeah, that makes total sense." "Quite. I only wish I knew what to say in kind, though." "In a perfect world, you wouldn't have to. Of course we both know that's as likely to happen as a pig doing a flip, so I'mma give you give you the skinny on how to clown to folks, starting with how to deconstruct an argument. Since you go to one of them fancy schools, I'm sure you already know what an argument is made of" "Naturally. It's a set of supporting statements building to a conclusion, is it not?" "Bingo, and to clown someone proper, you gotta be able to pick out what their premises are, as well as how they're building towards whatever they're thinking with what's immediately apparent. If you'd like a demonstration, just insult me. Go on, I won't get salty, promise" "Insult? You never struck me as the kind of person who would grasp when they were being insulted" "Interesting thing to say for someone who looks like they grabbed their clothes from out of a garbage bag. Tell me, did your daddy blindfold himself before giving you that janky haircut? Doubt he did. I'd guess he's off on a business trip with his secretary." "I'm guessing that's what they call a clowning?" "A more vicious version of it, yeah. Judging from them daggers you're shooting at me, you just felt what a good one is. Their premise is flipped back at them, and you continue to embarrass them with both the immediately apparent info and what you can dig up through research, all while studying absolutely ice cold. Anytime they figure out how to get a reaction outta you, they will nail it like a jackhammer, as you should be doing to them" "It seem like there many dangers to this craft. Are there any?" "Always is when the aim is to make someone look foolish. Go far enough in how badly they get clowned, and they might start harboring bad intentions, like wanting to sneak up behind someone and cold clock them from behind. Best to keep it light and breezy when you just wanna make 'em look foolish. Save that personal biz for when you gotta go for the jugular" "Hmm. You speak of clowning as a primarily offensive technique used against undesirables. Is that its sole usage?" "Not at all. Actually, if you do it proper, it can be an excellent way to be better buddies with someone, too!" "Insulting someone can strengthen the relationship you share with them? Forgive me if that strikes me as highly illogical" "All part of social dynamics. When you're trying to get on someone's good side, you put your best foot forward, right? Try to keep it formal, so you can start to crack the mask they put on. Likewise, the more each cracks the other's, the tighter they get, reflecting in how openly they clown each other about the little things, like how you can't even eat pizza without using a knife and fork-" "And how you farted when you spoke with my parents, and somehow convinced them it was me?" "Not my fault you ain't quick on your feet. Gotta be if expect you clown folks proper. Get good enough, and maybe next time you can convince them I cut the cheese"