“Hottie Needed For Clap Your Hands Say Yeah”
A reader forwarded us this Craigslist personal that is a perfect snapshot of the Indie Yuppie zeitgeist:
+1 Hottie Needed For Clap Your Hands Say Yeah — 10/5 @ Troubadour
Reply to: email@example.com
Date: 2005-09-23, 7:58PM PDT
I’m on assignment for a national indie music magazine (no, not Pitchfork) to review the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah show at the Troubadour on 10/5. All of my friends already landed their own tickets, so I thought I could use my +1 to meet someone new.
You: Eastsider, knows the band already, appears semi-regularly on Cobrasnake.com, okay with being ignored while I take notes for the review.
Me: pretty much what you’d expect.
Reply by Oct. 1st. Pics are, of course, a must. No fatties.
Cobrasnake–check, Clap Your Hands–check, Pitchfork–check (more accurately, anti-Pitchfork elitist attitude–check). This post has got to be a joke rooted in sour grapes, someone looking in on the scene with envy or contempt. More than likely both. He must be collecting any affirmative female replies for some sinister purpose. Really, what gal replies to this? “Hi, I’m Yvette, I am a hottie, intern at Vice, live on the Eastside, appear on Cobrasnake.com, I want to see Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and I love to be ignored.” And if this is in fact a real plea, it shows just how oblivious and shallow the dudes and dames of this scene either actually are or, more sadly, perceive one another as being. Maybe the kids at Stereogum could help delineate the cultural anthropology at play here.
But the real genius here is that the dude can play it off as a joke or really hook up with it. Maybe both. Likewise, the girl has an out–she can say she knew it was a joke all along and went with it, just for the show. No one has to tell anyone what they are thinking, everyone can hide behind the irony curtain and use each other. Genius, I tell you. And yet somehow it gives one a new respect for those other ads that are blunt and to the point: “M4W – ME: 9.5″ UNCUT; YOU: BIG BOTTOM SUB-DOM” No fucking irony, God bless you.
And if this is real and some hott ladies (no fatties, remember) are thinking of replying, let me help you out with that Me: pretty much what you’d expect part, because I know this guy. The guy in this ad is a pasty overgrown, unshaven manboy, probably in his mid 30’s, lives with roommates, has nice wardrobe of cool T-shirts, is a failed rock star, but thinks that his occasional DJ gig makes him one, tries too hard to look like he doesn’t try too hard, and works the lowest (read: internet) rung at a music magazine, chasing the rock & roll lifestyle from afar. Oh wait, he admitted that last one. Ladies, please form an orderly queue for this catch.
Ladies: Play your cards right and this could be you
thanks to Gary for the tip