The 4:15 Manifesto

I don't drink regular sodas, except in mixed drinks. I figure that when I get old and my health inevitably deteriorates, I don't want a doctor telling me something weak like "cut back on the Pepsi." I'd rather hear something to the effect of "lay off the bourbon and cheeseburgers."


By the same token, I don't believe in light beer. Alcohol - in all its forms - is pure poison and evil. It destroys your organs, reduces people to bumbling idiots, and kills more Americans every year than anything except tobacco and sloth. If you're going to poison yourself, it stands to reason that you might as well go all the way with it. Watching the calories in your booze is like saying you're only going to cut off one of your hands, or you're only going to shoot yourself in the leg once.


I don't understand a lot of single women. They'll tell you that they want to meet people when they go out, but then once they're out, they're automatically suspicious and mocking of every boy and man who dares to make contact. What gives?


I haven't been to a McDonald's since April of 1999. Not out of health or monetary concerns, nor of any kind of ethical or moral outrage but because the McDonald's on Main Street in Peoria was (at the time) just so dirty and poorly-run that it seemed stupid to give any more money to a company willing to put their name on it. They'll keep getting bigger and richer, of course, but at the very least I will be able to say that it's not because of me.

And yes, I realize how pathetic it is that substituting Burger King for McDonald's is my greatest moral crusade.


I think every guy needs to know the rules about asking out a waitress or bartender:
  1. Don't think for a second that her being nice and flirty with you is the same as her liking you. Remember, they make their money on tips.
  2. Yes, she does say that to all the customers. You are not special. Get over it.
  3. Leaving a ridiculously large tip is not the way to win her over. It doesn't make you look sweet, it makes you look like someone who's trying to buy her affections. And, unless she's a gold-digging skank (or a flat-out whore), it'll just come off as creepy.
  4. If you ask her out and she says no, you are not allowed to go to that bar or club on nights when she is working. It's just awkward for all involved.
  5. If you ask her out and she says yes, you are not allowed to go to that bar or club on nights when she is working. It's just as awkward as if she said no.
  6. If she never told you what nights she works at that bar, you were not even close to being in a position of getting a yes. Why? Because she was probably thinking about the same yes/no consequences (see #'s 4 and 5).
  7. Regardless of her answer, and I can't believe some of you guys out there need to be told this one, you are not allowed to ask out any other staff members for a minimum of six months. It's just like getting shot down by any other girl: you have to give it some time before you go chasing after one of her friends. Why? Because no one wants to feel like a consolation prize.


And, as usual, the biggest lessons are learned in the stupidest of ways.

I was out shopping for a laptop bag and actually had my eye on one of those really nice Swiss Army laptop backpacks. Comfortable, light, didn't pinch at the shoulder the way most messenger bags do. All the good stuff, until someone pointed out to me that I couldn't dare buy it.

Why not?

"Are you trying to look like a professional or like some stupid kid showing up to work on his after-school project?"

Professional, I guess. Why?

"Because you're going to just look like a damn amateur if you're going to interview someone and you reach into your freakin' backpack to get a pen!"

She was right, of course. Still, it stings a little to know that looking professional also means looking like someone whose back hurts.