Ray's Place: Self Esteem, Negroni Accident, Cakesitting

Dear Ray, I'm really struggling with self-esteem lately. I know that I'm at least a 6.5/10 guy in terms of appearance, my hygiene is above-average to excellent, I dress moderately well, and I am at least as respectful, interesting, and articulate in conversation as the next guy, but I can't shake the feeling that everyone finds me creepy. How can I get over the assumption that anyone I interact with would rather be doing literally anything else with literally anyone else?

—EndgamerAzari 

Endgamer,

This falls in the realm of self-fulfilling prophecy, my guy. If you’re suspicious of yourself, that’s definitely telegraphin’ to others that they need to be suspicious of you too. Like, if you’re trying to have a casual conversation at work, but your basket of “tells” (always slowly draw nose down and to left while talking, always register phony “shock” when they reply) makes the person suspect you have some shoplifting kink or throw tantrums at four-person dinner parties, it’s over.  

I think what you got to do is build confidence real way, not just by flossin’. Do you have a house? Replace all the plumbing, by yourself, with no YouTube videos. Just figure it out. You’ll go through hell, and have to start over a dozen times, but in the end, even though you still have a second floor toilet that flushes down the outside of the kitchen window, you’ll know you have value as a man. This will radiate in every external aspect of your behavior, and even if it doesn’t, you’ll have a new skill set for a job you can work at alone and not bug anybody.    

-=Ray S.=-

Side story: I got Roast Beef this little box that says nice things about him, like “you are valuable!” and “today will be your best day!” He did some interface thing with it and made it so it only broadcasts staticky old 1960s baseball games from a website, but the idea was that repetition will create reality. Obviously in his case nothing is ever going to work, but I got a receipt that proves I tried. 

-- -- + -- --

Hi Ray, I managed to spill a negroni into the Medium Amber Medici Cloth upholstery of my buddy's (stationary) 1974 Coupe DeVille. I immediately offered to pay for cleaning, but he won't hear of it. Do you have any tips for removing the stains? Or an idea for a gift I can give so generous a player?

Is this Father John Misty? Is that who is writing to me? Only Father John Misty would have such an experience, with such details. I mean, that situation is basically his (your) calling card. Was this in Malibu, or more of a funny Topanga thing? If they ever make a movie about you, this situation will have to occur at least three times. Too bad that Wes Anderson will probably direct it. I do not like his movies, if you can even call them that. I’m from the old school, where a movie tells a damn story, and isn't just posturing for everybody to tell it how cute it is. 

Anyhow, a good gift for the guy will be to have a nice brunch with him at a sidewalk table, but just order fruit and champagne (which you never touch), and leave halfway through. Then, just when he’s wondering what’s going on, get pushed out of a moving car right in front of him. Make sure you’re wearing a white suit with no shirt on. I don’t think Dennis Hopper ever did anything cooler — this is sure to get your buddy clapping his hands in delight (squarely together, not at the diagonal offset of opera clapping).

-=Ráímón=-

-- -- + -- --

Dear Ray, I know you can answer this for me. Say I were hypothetically interested in sitting on desserts. What's a good starter cake? Callipygian Man

Cakey Cal,

Well, the first mistake I see all the beginners make is goin’ small. Look, you ain’t a pro yet. You ain’t gonna hit that 2” petit four or 4” summer berry tart. Your ass is gonna land either on the blanket next to it, or it’s gonna be stickin’ to the side of your cheek like some kind of niche satire. You go sheet cake, or not at all. You need to get your confidence down. And no, before you ask, you can’t just use a pillow or a rectangle of mattress foam. Somethin’s gotta be on the line. You got to be afraid of ridicule and financial waste, so you’ll take it serious. You can’t un-sit on a cake, and if that ain’t a metaphor for bravery, I don’t know what is. 

Good luck. You’ll need it. This ain’t a cakewalk, as they say in the business.  

'Smucks

-- -- + -- --

Confidential to Josefina: prominent eye bags could just mean she has a really interesting life, not sleep apnea, so give it a try.