This is a clear shout-out to my hippy fans (fans that are hippies, not fans who are also fans of hippies) but it is just as relevant to everyone else. If you don’t wear an anklet, substitute pants cuff or skirt hem or bathrobe.
Step One:
Fall down.
Step Two:
Shout “Whoa, man!” but quickly assure those around you of “no worries.”
Step Three:
Claw through the haze of your trip toward the reality of your situation while the anklet twists ever tighter against your skin.
Step Four:
Remark that this is “heavy” or “the least righteous thing you’ve seen all.”
Step Five:
Now that the anklet is imbedded into your flesh and swiftly cutting into muscle, become mildly alarmed.
Also decide you’ve had enough of this “drag” and resolve to do something about it.
Step Six:
Make a quick-ish mental note about the metaphor you are experiencing (application of said metaphor to strike you later).
Step Seven:
Rebuff offers to help from any concerned “the man” as a cover for them finding an opportunity to oppress you in their sly capitalist corporate ways.
Step Eight:
Unstrap your guitar and sing a song about your now liberated foot. Make clear it is now free to walk its own path without being slave to your expectations.
Now it's your turn to write fake survival instructions for YOUR ANKLET IS CAUGHT IN A MALFUNCTIONING ESCALATOR OF DEATH! . . .
So, you totally splurged and bought that FAB ankle bracelet with the crystals hanging down? You go, girl! You totally deserve to be pampered after all you put up with every day. But now you're riding the escalator to hit that killer sale at Abercrombie, and you've just realized that what's really KILLER is that your new anklet is, like, totally stuck in the escalator. Don't freak! Just play damsel in distress, and wait for one of the hot guys working the kiosks to come to your rescue. You can totally work this to your advantage, girl!
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