Surprisingly, other than almost everyone looking like they stepped off the set of Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, the level of douchebaggery at the Toronto distribution site for Radiohead‘s free newspaper, The Universal Sigh, was pretty tolerable.
It wasn’t until I got back to the subway platform that I saw a guy conspicuously reading his copy, constantly looking furtively over his shoulder, as if to make sure people saw he’d scored one, that I was confronted with douchebaggery at all. Even the guys who budded in front of me to chat up the Ryerson journalism student weren’t particularly douchey. Plus, they prevented me from getting interviewed by her for which I was eternally thankful.
But—while watching the twitchy, bespectacled, parka- and skinny jeans-wearing reader pose on the platform and stare at the same page for several minutes—I had to ask myself a question. Who’s the bigger douche?
This champ for trying to look cool or myself for purposely not reading my copy so people would not, heaven forbid, judge me similarly? At least he was being somewhat sincere. His douchery was being flaunted for all to see.
- my denial that I am clearly a puppet happy to let Radiohead pull my strings and make me use my lunch break go somewhere I really prefer to avoid
- caring at all what anybody thought what I was reading on the subway, and
- judging some kid based on motivations I’d completely fabricated for him when he was probably just a nerdy type with a social anxiety disorder
all factors which add up to me being a douchebag?
I ultimately decided not to obsess (much) over the matter.