Sex and Groceries

“One doesn't sing because he hopes one day to appear in an opera; one sings because one's lungs are full of joy.” -Henry Miller.

Last night I went out with some friends to see a show at the Grog Shop, a lovely little music venue in Cleveland Heights on the east side of the city.  I rarely go to the east side, but I'll explain why I took the train all the way out there in the middle of finals just to go see a DJ later.

At the show, I'm introduced to your standard hipster character with nice boat shoes who doesn't seem too excited to be meeting me, or to even be at the show with his friends, but I think, “Well... he's friends with my friends, so I'm sure he's got some good qualities... good, hidden qualities.”

Mr. Boat Shoes disappears for most of the show while my friends and I dance the dance of our hippie forefathers, with dashes of hip-hop and heaping spoonfuls of whiteness.  After the show we go to my friend's house nearby, and at some point between my acoustic rendition of Mariah Carey's “All I Want For Christmas” and trying to hula-hoop through the first half of a Fleetwood Mac record on a bet, Mr. Boat Shoes returns.  He seems grumpy as ever, but I think nothing of it and eventually fall asleep on the couch.

The next day I learn that in the middle of the night, around 4 a.m., Mr. Boat Shoes walked in on one of my female friends talking to a guy.  He looked at the guy straight and said in all seriousness four more words than I heard him say all night: “I WILL FIGHT YOU!”

Apparently, Mr. Boat Shoes was hoping to go to the bone zone with my friend and was getting agitated that nothing was happening – my friend had also canceled two dates on him earlier in the week.   My friend and the guy just laughed at him and Mr. Boat Shoes says, “you know you're the reason I came here tonight,” as if his ticket to the show granted him exclusive access to her pants.  He leaves in huff, goes upstairs into a random room to pass out, and slams the door behind him.

* *

One of the more wonderful movements I've seen in the last few years is the “buy local” movement. It's sort of the calmer, older brother of the younger, wilder Occupy Wall Street movement.  They both represent a movement away from fulfilling our needs from faceless corporations towards surviving as a community of people working towards a common good.

The reason I love the movement is that when I buy something local, whether it's groceries or a piece of jewelry, I'm not only getting something I need, but instead of helping Wal-Mart, I'm helping my friends and my neighbors.  I'm helping Liza when I buy her artwork. I'm helping Alex when I pay him to fix my bike.

One of the problems with the way our economy is set up, and one of the reasons for these movements, is that Capitalism inadvertently teaches us to take advantage of other people.  It does this by teaching us to be motivated by monetary “profit."  And in most cases in order to profit, you need to be profiting off of someone else.  

One of the most efficient ways of getting someone to pay more for something than what you paid for it is to find the cheapest way possible to produce the goods.  If I can make a bike for $100 and it would take you $200 to make the same bike, you'll buy my bike for $150 and we'll both be happy.  I made $50 bucks and you got a bike for $50 bucks cheaper than it would have taken you to make it.

Unfortunately, a few of the ways corporations can sell things for so cheap is through underpaid labor (ie sweatshops and slavery), by raping the earth (ie insecticides), and by taking advantage of other people (ie predatory lending).  It's easy to disregard these costs because in most cases consumers don't pay these costs themselves, other people do.  On top of this, most people are either unaware of these costs or they can't see the effects of those costs.  We don't see the huge agribusinesses where our food comes from and we don't see the sweatshops where our clothes are made.

When our society teaches us to seek out a comfortable, easy life, full of Snuggies and McDonald's drive-thru's, the idea that someone else might have to pay for our comfort doesn't even cross our minds.  We are ego-driven creatures, after all.  Making it all worse, America's economy is now primarily based on service industries such as entertainment, hospitality, and healthcare.  Industries that focus on making people happy and comfortable with advertising that make us believe that no amount of discomfort should be tolerated (it's hard not to keep referencing this commercial).  

When our economy is based on taking advantage of other people and obliterating pain and suffering, we need to find comfort in things as opposed to people.  We can buy a spa package, pay to see a movie, or rent a prostitute's body.  We can't find solace in other people's company, they're our competition: the ones we need to dupe to buy our junk, the ones we need to beat for a job, the ones we need to compete with for sex partners.

If Mr. Boat Shoes buys a ticket to a show, yet still can't pork who he wants, HE WILL FIGHT YOU!

When we live in an ego-centric society that focuses on personal fulfillment as opposed to relationships, sex is not an act of passion with another person, but the fulfilling of a personal need through another person.  It is a commodity.  And if someone won't fulfill your needs, then they're of no use to you.  You'll get frustrated and angry like a kid who finds out his new toy is broken.

To be honest, I understood where Mr. Boat Shoes was coming from.  I was 15 once and the whole reason I went to the east side to dance that night was to see that same woman.  However, I can at least say that I had purer intentions than Mr. Boat Shoes. I met her a few months ago and on paper, she's more than ideal. She's quirky, cares for her friends, loves to dance (not in order to be seen, but for the thrill), and is passionate about living a lifestyle that's healthy for her and her community.

Given all of this, and even though I always have a great time hanging out with her, I just haven't gotten that feeling yet.  I'm actually really pissed at my heart over this and wonder if law school has finally sucked away the last bits of my soul.  So I took the night off from studying to see if I'm still alive on the inside, to see if I just need a little more time to get that feeling.

I spent the entire night with one particular thought in mind.  This thought is the important thing – the main difference between Mr. Boat Shoes and me.  That night I knew that no matter what happened, I would have a good time.  Either I would feel that spark and begin to fall for her or I would continue to get to know a new friend.  Either way it would be a good night for the both of us.

Not only that, but because I felt that this woman and I were so similar, I knew that she wouldn't just be put in the friend-zone if it came to that; I knew she would be put in the much more prestigious best-friend-zone.  So either I would end the night falling in love with someone new or I would have an awesome time with a new, on-the-rise best friend.  Either way we both would profit without taking advantage of anyone.

When we're picking out groceries, buying new clothes, and having sex, we should be conscious that there is always someone else involved -- and wonder if things would be better if we could work with them, live with them, fall in love with them, instead of just fucking them for what we want.