Las Vegas has an event called First Friday where artists display their work to the public on the first Friday of every month. Last week I was invited to go with some friends, but declined because I didn't think I'd be up to walking around in a crowd. One of the people that did go was telling me a little about last week's experience. He really liked it (it was his first time going) and even bought some prints. He mentioned that he saw a lot of original paintings that were several hundred dollars apiece.
Somehow, we got talking about our trip to Sedona, and I brought up the price of a bronze statue we had seen there. It was really cool. It also cost somewhere in the neighborhood of $45,000.
Me: Well, it was cool and all, but I wouldn't buy something like that. Especially for that price. Even if I had the money. I'm not exactly a statue-in-the-yard type of guy.
Friend: What type of guy are you, exactly?
I gave him some answers, some of which are repeated below along with some others I came up with for you to read. You know, In case you're wondering the same thing.
I'm a bites-his-fingernails-when-they-get-too-long-or-uneven-or-when-he's-nervous type of guy.
I'm a hey-everybody-listen-to-this-awesome-music-and-like-it type of guy.
I'm a misses-living-in-an-area-where-it-snows-until-he-hears-stories-about-his-parents-driving-through-storms-and-passing-thirty-plus-accidents-on-the-icy-roads type of guy.
I'm a too-chicken-to-make-the-first-move-on-a-girl-unless-there-is-good-indication-that-such-a-move-would-not-be-rejected type of guy.
I'm a hurry-up-and-open-a-manuscript-draft-when-he-hears-his-advisor-coming-down-the-hall-so-that-it-looks-like-he's-been-working-instead-of-blogging-IMing-or-wasting-time-on-myspace-in-case-his-advisor-pokes-his-head-in-to-see-how-things-are-going type of guy.
I'm a washes-hands-immediately-after-touching-an-animal type of guy.
I'm a trims-his-nails-with-the-scissors-on-his-Swiss-army-knife type of guy.
I'm a turn-his-cell-phone-off-at-night-in-order-to-save-the-battery-and-not-be-woken-up-by-a-call-in-the-middle-of-the-night type of guy.
I'm a willing-to-drop-an-F-bomb-in-order-to-make-a-joke-funnier type of guy.
I'm an eats-Hershey's-kisses-when-he-takes-percocet type of guy.
I'm a likes-to-take-pictures-but-never-prints-them-up-and-frames-them type of guy.
I'm a would-rather-drive-eight-hours-to-Lake-Tahoe-to-play-in-the-snow-than-drive-an-hour-to-Mt.-Charleston-to-do-the-same-thing type of guy.
I'm a could-be-a-great-cook-if-he-wanted-to-but-instead-only-uses-his-kitchen-skills-to-make-desserts type of guy.
I'm a not-afraid-of-heights-but-is-scared-of-snakes type of guy.
I'm an I-don't-drink-but-will-hang-out-with-and-act-just-as-drunk-as-you-while-you're-drinking-short-of-vomiting*-or-sleeping-with-an-ugly-chick type of guy.
I'm a recycle-every-scrap-of-paper-yet-enjoys-shooting-glass-ornaments-in-the-desert-with-his-dad's-rifle type of guy.
I'm a when-simultaneously-hit-with-a-case-of-diarrhea-and-vomit-will-always-choose-to-crap-in-the-toilet-and-puke-on-the-floor-rather-than-puke-in-the-toilet-and-crap-on-the-floor-because-vomit-is-more-appealing-to-clean-up-than-crap** type of guy***.
I'm a thinks-he's-funny-even-if-nobody-else-seems-to-agree type of guy.
*Unless, of course, we are playing a drinking game and I have to eat a bite of chocolate every time I would normally have to take a drink, in which case all bets are off, and I will vomit multiple times throughout the night. I still won't sleep with an ugly chick though.
**No matter how runny it is.
***Unlike some people I know.