This article is a work of satire written from the perspective of a performative male. The creator of this piece does not identify as a performative male.
Some people say I’m performative. They say I act this way for attention, to draw people in with my mysterious allure so I can break their hearts. Well, if I’m performative, then this is one wonderful show. I’m just living my life, after all, and what a thrilling life it is.
I wake up and get ready, putting on my quarter-zip and tastefully folding over the collar as I run my fingers through my curly mullet. I spent many minutes making sure it looks like I just got out of bed. Now that I’m looking snazzy, I stock up my tote bag with some of my favorite books — “Little Women,” “The Bell Jar,” “The Handmaid’s Tale,” the basics. I’ll be at the coffee shop for a while, so I need enough literature to get through my time there.
I arrive at the coffee shop, my favorite place in town. I come here pretty regularly — every day, when possible. With a smile, I greet the barista and request my usual. She obliges, but I just barely catch her eye roll as she turns around. I shrug it off, patiently waiting off to the side for my drink.
She calls my name, and a large matcha is placed on the counter. I eagerly pick it up, savoring the first sip as I’ll savor every sip to come. At this point, I’m garnering some weird looks as I make my way to a couch in the corner and pull out “Little Women.”
Of course, I can’t read without music. I slip in one wired earbud and press start on my playlist. “Amoeba” by Clairo pops up first, and now, with the proper backing track, I immerse myself in the world of Jo March.
It’s not long before I catch someone filming me, giggling under her breath. It’s not the first time it’s happened — for some reason, people seem to find people reading in public exceptionally strange. I just hope I won’t come across it on TikTok later with a malicious caption like the ones I’ve seen on others’ videos that mock people for simply reading in public.
Still, it hurts when people call me a faker just for living my life. I’m really not hurting anyone, am I? My fashion choices aren’t ruining lives, and I’d argue my reading choices make me a better person, not a worse one.
With that in mind, next time you see me in public, think twice before pulling out your phone and posting a video to Instagram laughing about how weird I am. In the end, I’m just trying to live my life, and maybe instead of obsessing over strangers’ drink choices on the internet, you should go live yours.
In the meantime, I’m going to go buy a new vinyl to cheer me up. After all, retro is the new modern!
