Foremost Scholar

By GREG MAFFETT
Published: November 20, 2010

I had a chance to watch San Diego State play Utah in a game of football tonight. A bartender had two tickets that he couldn't use because he couldn't find a replacement to tend bar, so he offered me the tix. My initial solution was to counter his offer by taking his shift at the bar as that would be great writing material. But on the flipside it would involve working in a bar, which I haven't done since I walked away from my gig as a janitor at Mon's Cafe when I was 17.

So there you have it. I ended up solving this dilemma by adding a bit extra to my tip and not talking about the fact that I'm way too much of a solo act to accept two tickets to an event as, let's face it, no one has the slightest interest in spending time with me. Unless it inloves intimate physical relations.

Which is what got me into writing this piece. Once you recognize what you are (in my case a good roll in the hay) then you can in fact leverage that information to get other things in life. Otherwise, you are sitting at home alone on a Saturday Night, sipping a single vineyard Pinot Noir and writing fiction rather than chatting with a intellectual who is also foremost scholar.

Now, if you recall Little Miss Sunshine, you recall that the lead character was "The World's Foremost Proust Scholar". How do you get such a sobriquet? Read a lot, then write a lot. There may be more to it than that, those may not be neccesary and suffiient conditions, but they might be necessary at the least. Of course a really good publicist could possibly be a trump card. I'm a little at sea here, I confess.

But this is not a confessional, per se. No this is good old fashioned, red, white and blue American writing. That really reeks doesn't it? We have red states, blue states in a country that was settled by white people. Aren't you outraged at ths lack of diversity?

Ok, maybe not. Anyway, back to the scholarly stuff, which technically I still haven't gotten to and knowing me and the fact that this is a Saturday night where I'm not sitting home alone drinking Pinot, is the kind of thing that could go any which way, as Clint Eastwood might have said.

I'm loosening up here, I can feel it. So here it is then. I headed out tonight searching for the World's Foremost Maffett Scholar. This was no simple task, on the one hand. Not only does no one read this online stuff I post, when I self publish a book I hand out copies to 10 people who say they will read it, but really everyone except my Mom never gets around to it. And it's now way past Mom's bedtime on the East Coast. So what to do?

Reason! Based on the film I referenced earlier, one thing was clear to me. If there was a Foremost Maffett Scholar, he was probably like the guy in the film, that is to say, Gay. And here I am, a mere seven blocks from Hillcrest, which houses every Gay Bar in San Diego. How hard can this be?

Really, I've lived here two years. How it is I've never figured this out before is probably a testament to some serious homophobia that I've got going on and don't really care to deal with in this lifetime but will probably face the next time through the recycler.

Anyway, problem almost solved. All I had to do was hike up the hill and hit a bar. What with it being a Saturday night and me being nothing more than a sex machine, I had to figure I'd be swarmed as soon as I made it through a door.

I never made the door. I would not say I was accosted. I'd not say that because I only scored 700 on my verbal SAT's and so I'm not entirely sure what that word means. But an exchange occured where I determined that I was in fact talking to the World's Foremost Maffett Scholar.

Turns out, said scholar was not familiar with any of my work. Also turns out, that didn't matter as I had a stack of 3 by 5 cards that I could pass him to ask me the kinds of questions that I expected such a scholar would ask in an interview. Improvise, that is what I'm about.

So I have my scholar here with me. He is sitting in the chair next to me in my study. Oh odd coincidence, turns out his name is Greg too. So I'll call him Greg2. Meaning I'll be Greg1.

Greg2. "So when did you realize that you were a literay genius?"

Greg1 "Funny you should ask."

Greg2 "When did you-"

Greg1 "Actually I wasn't done answering the earlier question"

Greg2 "What Question?"

Greg1 "The genius one."

Greg2 "Do you ever think you will be done answering that question?"

Greg1 "I didn't write that on a card! But good point, that really is almost all I do anymore"

Greg2 "I have a number of good points"

Greg1 "Could you just stick to the script here?"

Greg2 "Apparently not."

Greg1 ""Could you just read what is on that card!"

Pause

Greg1 "Read it aloud! Are you Autistic too?"

Greg2 "Which?"

Greg1 "Huh?"

G2 "Do you want me to read the card or answer the question you just asked?"

G1 "Perhaps its best if we just call these proceedings a close."

G2 "You mean it's time I get a litle some something?"

G1 "Sure, have some wine..."