What was the name of the town? I can't remember. It's in the episode "Nashville," so go watch that and let me know. Anyway, I tried this in Spain exactly once. I woke up at 11:30 p.m., went from groggy to drunk with no middle ground, and then peed in a stairwell.
Listen, seriously: Sleeping in the middle of work makes sense, because work sucks. But sleeping in the evenings? What about TV? Why would you force yourself to go through the agony of waking up any more than you already have to? It's the worst part of being alive and this custom triples the number of times you have to do it. Instead of taking that early evening siesta, why not -- and I know this sounds crazy -- just go out drinking? Everything's already there. You are unnecessarily complicating things with your sleep-based shenanigans. Siestas I'm fine with. Pre-booze naps, however, are fundamentally wrong.
And if I were smarter and more talented and
Look, I may not have the best perspective on this, because I'm kind of broken when it comes to human socializing. Like I said at the beginning, I am from the sea, which means I was never in one place for too long. Which means a lot of my childhood friendships started when I saw someone else my age on a beach and ran up to them to say, "Quick, let's be friends before I leave again. Do you like pretending sticks are swords? Oh man, what a coincidence, me too. Here are all my most personal secrets," and then it would be time for them to leave forever. Then I would travel back to the U.S. and discover that in towns with stable populations, friendship circles were carefully guarded secret societies whose access must be first fought for and then jealously guarded. "That's stupid," I'd say, and then have just the worst time making friends (though I still managed to accrue some very special ones).
Until I moved again, and had to adjust to completely different rules once more. Where it was once unacceptable to not enjoy the Dave Matthews Band, one might suddenly be known as a bit of a dorkus for not liking My Chemical Romance. "Do you know how to ski?" can go from an insulting insinuation of diminished masculinity to a nonsense hypothetical.
"No, I don't regularly drive 500 miles just so I can be cold on a hill."
You know what else is weird? How quickly you adopt the new rules when you move somewhere. When I first arrived in Seattle, I learned about the "Seattle Freeze," which is when you enthusiastically tell someone you want to hang out and then never call them. "I'll never do something like that," I said, and then Seattle-Froze like four people in a month. I couldn't help it! Weird friendship behaviors are contagious, and I was infected. Also, I had a clique at that point, and these weirdos wouldn't really have fit in.
My point is, there's no "right" way to do anything. Which is good, because if there were, odds are it wouldn't be how you do it. And it definitely wouldn't be how I do it, because I'm from the goddamn sea.
JF Sargent is a senior editor and columnist for Cracked and he's not sure if those titles should be capitalized, because nothing is capitalized at sea. Follow him on Twitter and Facebook.
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