Thursday, Feb 16th: Albany, NY
# of books sold: 27
# of books signed: 72
# of alcoholic drinks consumed: 10+
# of pictures taken with fans: 25+
# of girls I hooked up with: 1
Thanks: A huge thank you goes out to Matt and everyone else at Mad River, they could not have been more accomodating and cool to me. It seems like no matter what city you are in, the people who work at Mad River are awesome. And of course I have to thank Damien, he did a great job getting everything set up.
Highlights of the stop: This was one of the stranger stops I've had. Not in a bad way at all, things were just...different. For instance, this is the first stop where almost all the books I signed were for people who brought their copy with them. Twice as many people brought their copy with them instead of buying it from me. That's perfectly fine, it's just never been like that before.
Beyond that, at this stop it was mostly girls sweating me instead of guys, which was a nice switch. I ended up going home with this girl who had some of the largest real tits I have ever dealt with (and no assholes, she was not fat, in fact she was skinny and pretty hot. After the UVA signing though, I guess that this is a legit question). And beyond her, there were several other very good options there last night. Albany as a city is a fucking shit hole, but the girls I met were for the most part good looking, had nice big tits and wanted to fuck. Can't argue with that.
EDIT#1: I forgot about this at first, but I want to address it:
Last night these three girls from Skidmore came out to the signing. They were 18 year old freshman, nice girls, and they had one main question for me. I'm paraphrasing:
"How is it you can get away with having so much sex and just doing what you want? I want to fuck a lot too, but I don't know, I just can't seem to do it, my friends all tell me that its wrong and that I'd be a slut, plus there is such a double standard about it. If you do it, you're a hero, if I do it, I'm a whore. It's not fair."
I want to talk about this, because I think that people sometimes misunderstand my position on the issue. This is basically what I told her:
Whether you are a man or a woman, there is nothing at all wrong with wanting to have a lot of sex. I want to especially emphasize this: If you are a woman, having a lot of sex does NOT automatically make you a whore. As long as you are honest with the other person about what you want, you are safe (this means condoms for guys) and responsible (and birth control for girls), and you do it for the right reasons, sex is a very good thing and you should not be ashamed of it at all.
The only way you will be truly happy is to figure out what your desires are, and then act on them in a safe, responsible manner. If you want to have sex, then go out and have sex. If you don't, that's OK too, both positions are right in their own way. The last thing I am advocating is a specific course of action; what I am saying is that you need to figure out what is right for you, and do that. It is your life, not anyone elses, who the fuck are they to tell you what you should and should not do? As a general rule, if you enjoy something and it's not hurting anyone else, then you have every right to keep doing it, and fuck anyone who disagrees.
Now, if you are female and take a liberated approach to sex, there is no question that some of your friends will not like it and they will castigate you for it. FUCK'EM. Get new friends. No real friend would ever get down on you for doing something that makes you happy. Chances are, if you are having a lot of sex (and are being responsible about it) and they have an issue with it, it's not you they are criticizing, it is themselves, they are just taking it out on you.
As you get older you'll see this more and more: whenever you pursue your dreams and goals, even something small like personal pleasure, some people will shit on you for it. 95% of the time, this will be because they are jealous that they aren't doing it themselves. Watching you be happy doing what pleases you only makes them realize that they aren't doing the same thing, but instead of turning that anger inwards and changing what sucks about their life, they will turn it outwards and react against you. People like that suck, cut them out of your life. You should always strive to surround yourself with people who root for you, not against you, people who enhance your life and who bring something to the table, not people who take from it (and of course, you should strive to be one of those people also).
Granted, if you are young you are going to think something is good for you when it probably isn't, and as a result you are going to make mistakes. That's OK, that is part of the nature of youth. Sometimes the only way to find the right path is to walk down the wrong one for awhile. Shit, the only reason I do anything right this point in my life is because I probably was doing it wrong, realized I was fucking up, and fixed it. The only way you can ever really understand who you are as a person and what it is that really makes you happy is by trying lots of different things and seeing where you fall. Life is not about doing what everyone else does; it's about finding out who you are and being that person.
I also want to point one thing out: I said in the first paragraph that you should make sure you are doing things for the right reasons. As an 18 year old girl or a 40 year old man or anything in between, if you feel like you want to have lots of sex with lots of partners, then be safe and responsible and honest, and try it out. Maybe it works, maybe not, but you can't know until you try.
BUT, you should ask yourself, "Why am I fucking all these people?" If it's because you just really enjoy experiencing other people and you like the act of sex and aren't ready for a committed relationship, then those are the right reasons and you shouldn't regret what you are doing. But if you are fucking people to cover up some emotional scar, or if you are doing it for validation or for similar wrong reasons, then it's not going to work and it's not a good thing. I keep telling you to be honest with other people, and that is important, but more important is to be honest with yourself. Many people use sex and drugs and alcohol as proxies to cover pain; that doesn't work. Facing that pain is the only way to actually deal with it. Covering it won't make it go away; like my buddy SlingBlade says, "FELLATIO WON'T FILL THE HOLE IN YOUR SOUL!"
And on that note, I am going out to get drunk and have sex with a random girl...fuck you, I can be a (semi-)contradiction if I want to be. The only way you can break the rules is if you know them first.
EDIT#2: This is a pretty good article about my time in Albany written by a local reporter:
The rake's progress: Seductive mix of booze, women, writing draws fans to Tucker Max
By KRISTI L. GUSTAFSON, Staff writer
First published: Saturday, February 25, 2006
More denim-miniskirt girls and pimple-faced dudes flit by than you'd see at a Fall Out Boy concert, and I've heard a certain slang term for the female genitalia so often I'm starting to think this is a cat show.
But, no, it's a book signing.
The fact that it's being held at Albany's Mad River Bar and Grill isn't the only thing that separates it from the average literary evening. The guest of honor is Tucker Max, a 30-year-old Duke Law School grad who has made a career out of what used to unironically be called debauchery -- namely, lots of sex and lots and lots of alcohol.
Such as a double shot of Jaegermeister brought over to Max by a friend. "It's like 5:30, man," the author says in a tone of mild protest. Then he takes it down in a single gulp.
With his dirty blond hair, baggy jeans and bloodshot eyes -- due to a contact lens problem, he says, not last night's Jaegermeister -- Max blends in like the average aging prepster. He drives a Chevy Malibu and likes hamburgers. He hero-worshipped the stars of "The Dukes of Hazzard" when he was a kid.
Max became a little less of an average fella four years ago, when he launched a blog that has grown into one of the most viewed sites on the Internet; Max's site, http://www.tuckermax.com, claims more than 25 million unique hits and 200 million page views to date. He's currently keeping a city-by-city book tour diary.
Max's resume now includes the collection "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell," in which he proudly presents himself as the sort of nookie-hound that any sane parent would warn their daughters to avoid like chlamydia. Over the course of 277 pages, he chronicles in graphic detail the sort of sexual misadventures -- occasionally gymnastic, frequently just nasty -- that men usually talk about only among their own gender.
Indeed, Max's whole book reads like the print equivalent of an X-rated reality show in which the boring bits have been edited out, leaving only the juicy parts. (The week before his Albany visit, it was No. 26 on the New York Times paperback nonfiction list, but has subsequently fallen off.)
At Mad River, he talks like a confident celebrity who's polished his best lines. One frequent question: Should readers take his stories as journalistic truth or bedroom folklore? "It's my recollection of the night," he says. "It's not like I'm writing the Warren Commission Report."
I was a little apprehensive about going to Max's event last week: I had already had an unpleasant encounter with him -- and no, not that kind of encounter. Last October, I interviewed him over the phone for a column on pickup lines, but didn't end up using any of his quotes. Miffed at this absence, Max sent me a particularly nasty e-mail saying that my story was lacking -- I've deleted it, but I believe the word "sucked" was used.
I doubted I'd be able to spend 10 minutes with Max, much less an hour with him and his fans. But sitting not two feet away from him, I find myself laughing. Laughing at the men who come to share tall tales set in strip clubs or at bachelor parties. Laughing at the women who nearly spill from their shirts as they tell Max he's cuter in person than on the book cover, that they like his shirt, that girls at one local college (I won't get specific, and please don't call) are indeed as slutty as he's heard.
Like many celebrities, Max has created a character that's a cartoonish version of himself -- and he didn't even have to change his name to do it. Max flirts right back with his female fans, calling them "sweetie" or "honey" and delivering one-liners as fast as he tosses back shots of Red Bull and vodka. He admits to unnecessarily blowing up at reporters in the past, mainly when they start asking the same tired questions. (Such as: How long can you keep this up? "As long as it keeps making me money.")
Then again, he can get equally annoyed when the questions are unexpected, such as my query as to whether or not, in all his drunken encounters, he's ever had a homosexual experience. The short answer is no; the long answer can't be printed in a family paper but boils down to Max's contention that he gets blind drunk, but not that blind drunk.
Things like this make Max's mother cry, he says. She also "asks me why I'm not a good person."
Mom confirms this. Between signing books, Max dials her number on his cell and hands it to me. "He wasn't raised to be totally narcissistic like this," says Lanny Evans from her home in Winchester, Ky. Both of Max's parents have been married several times, a topic that comes up in the book.
But narcissism has been good to Max, winning him the sort of fans who freak out when they meet him. One young woman at Mad River gets so nervous at the sight of Max she can barely speak. "I'm a very high-strung person," she says, then runs off with her signed copy of "Beer in Hell."
Other fans are friendlier. Guys shake his hand like they're meeting LeBron James. They give him tips on Albany nightspots, or ask how they can become a great writer, too.
Most fans walk away from the signing table slightly puffed up, as if their momentary connection to the writer has given them a little of his swagger. Max makes them feel that way.
Max has a salesman's sense of how to work a room, and a surefire way to plant himself into a circle of friends: He always asks the guys to talk about the person he's signing for. "Describe Jake," says Max to a local college student's friends as Jake himself stands by waiting.
"He's Jewish," one buddy says. Everybody laughs -- Jake included. It's one of the best answers Max hears all night, he says later.
As the men walk away, they crowd around reading Max's words (trust me, you don't want to know). They say "So cool" and grin.
But it's not all flirting females and man-crush guys. One fan, 21-year-old Leigh Bellouny of Albany, tells Max his writing "helped me learn how to laugh again" after he lost an uncle on 9/11 and a close friend in a car accident.
Whoa -- a redeeming quality, perhaps?
Max surprises me again when I tell him there's another author, Albany's own Sid Stein, on the other side of town signing his own book, "A Little on the Side," which teaches men how to cheat on their wives and get away with it. Max makes a that's-screwed-up face, and I wonder if it's a flash of morality or concern that his event has competition.
"Beer in Hell" contains plenty of stories about Max hooking up with married women. It's also full of stories about serial vomiting and clumsy sexual experimentation, many of which I was almost ashamed to find myself laughing at. Laughing, I should add, almost hard enough to make me fall off the elliptical machine at the gym.
I wanted to be appalled. I wanted to be offended, to believe I'm above the humor of someone like Max. Instead, I'm entertained.
As the signing winds down, I think I'm starting to understand Max's appeal. Although I don't find him appealing.
Max doesn't need another fan of that sort -- based on the scene at Mad River, he's got a surplus. These are sound-minded women (well, most of them are drunk, but so's he) who are very clear about wanting to have sex with him. They bring him cookies, slip him a phone number, even offer up their friends for combinations.
As Max puts it in his book: "(I) just find the slutty girls and let them do what comes naturally."
According to Max's report on his Albany visit posted on his site, the author didn't spend the night alone.
Friday, Feb 17th: OFF
Saturday, Feb 18th: Boston, MA
# of books sold: 127
# of books signed: 191
# of alcoholic drinks consumed: 12+
# of pictures taken with fans: 50+
# of girls I hooked up with: 0 (no, seriously, I thought it was impossible to leave Boston without at LEAST fucking once, but I was wrong. Sort of.)
Thanks: Every stop makes it clearer and clearer that the difference between a good signing and a great signing is planning. This was a great stop because I had a great group of guys helping me out at BU. I want to especially thank Colin and Lex, who did an amazing job getting everything set up at the student center, and Elliott, Matt and Carl who helped out also. And of course I want to thank everyone who came out, the Q&A and signing were one of the best so far.
Highlights of the stop:
Coming...
Sunday, Feb 19th: OFF
Monday, Feb 20th: Special Pittsburgh Update: The signing isn't until tomorrow, but Mike and I got to Pittsburgh a day early and something happened that I have to write about.
There is a girl who lives in Pittsburgh [note: NOT the Tattoo Girl, a different one] that I have been emailing off and on for about two months. She is really pretty, very sweet, and well...she is into some peculiar things. One thing in particular, something that I have tried to avoid, but tonight I decided to go ahead and do it.
Some backstory: When she first told me about her fetish, I was reading her email in my living room, sitting next to my buddy Credit. It went like this:
Tucker "Dude, you aren't going to believe what this girl wants me to do to her."
Credit "Pick her up at her middle school so she doesn't have to ride the train here?"
Tucker "Fuck you, this girl is 23."
Credit "I don't know Max. That's a little old for you. Did you ask her if she has a younger sister."
Tucker "You're starting piss me off. Seriously though, after we fuck, she wants me to piss on her. Like, all over her."
Credit [short pause] "What if you don't have to go?"
Of course I laughed, but it planted the seed in my mind. I don't really have any sexual performance issues, but what if I have urinary performance issues? I've never taken a post-coital piss on a girl before, who knows if I can do it on command. I know sometimes I have issues pissing in a public bathroom if there are lots of people around...this is like that, except way worse.
[One more side note: PissGirl and I were supposed to fuck over a month ago, but she could never make it to NYC because she isn't allowed to drive. Why not? Oh, did I mention that she also has a rare form of leukemia? Because of the high risk of internal hemorrage, she isn't allowed to drive a car. Or fly in a plane. And yes, she is currently undergoing chemo, but it's non-aggressive chemo, so she isn't losing her hair or anything, and we can still fuck without freaking me out. So to summarize, when I pulled into town tonight, at the bar there were two girls waiting for me: One with my name tattooed on her pussy, and a cancer victim who wanted me to piss on her. Sounds like a Pittsburgh party to me! Let's get one for the thumb!]
PissGirl and I get to the hotel and I make her pay. She may have cancer, but it's benign and daddy is still richer than I am. Besides, if he loves his little girl enough to give her a purse full of cash, who am I to not help her put it to good use? And let me tell you, there is very little that is funnier than the look on the clerks face when you pay for a $160 Wyndham Suite with sweaty, crumpled bills at 2am. High comedy.
We fuck, it was fine, and she goes into the bathroom to pee. I start to panic a little, because I don't have to go. At all. I get up and slam three big glasses of water, and when she comes out of the bathroom I pull her into bed before she can ask me to piss on her. I need some time for the water to get through me.
We fuck again, and to be honest, the second time was pretty fucking amazing. I started slow because I needed to pull a Napolean and trade space for time to get the water through my kidneys. But for whatever reason it kinda turned into really passionate and hot sex and, well, I don't want to call it meaningful because I barely know this girl, but it was one of the closest things I've had to emotionally touching sex since I was dating Bunny.
If you know anything about sex you know that while physical chemisty is important to sex, what really makes good sex great is an emotional connection. I can't explain what happened or why, and I am not going to spend another second thinking about it. I really do not want to consider what the implications are of me forming a quick and premature emotional attachment to a girl who wants me to piss on her. I have a feeling that following this line of thought to its logical conclusion will result in me pouring Drano down my throat.
PissGirl "Ummm...was that hot for you too?"
Tucker "Yeah, no question. That was almost like Dating Sex."
PissGirl "God, it was amazing."
Tucker "You ready to get pissed on?"
PissGirl "I don't know if I want you do piss on me anymore"
Tucker "What?"
PissGirl "Well, we just had such passionate sex, I don't want to ruin the moment..."
Had she said this to me after the first time, I wouldn't have cared, but now it was 45 minutes later and my manuever had worked. Those three glasses of water I slammed were through me...
Tucker "Look, I have to piss, and it is going on you. Get out of bed and on your knees. Now."
PissGirl "It's so hot when you tell me what to do."
I take her into the bathroom, she gets on her knees, and I straddle her, pointing my cock pointed right at her tits. It takes me a second to coax the urine out, but finally the first dribble leaks out.
PissGirl "Ohhh...it's so warm..."
I guess that was the magic phrase, because the flood gates opened, literally. Were she to have jumped in the Monongahela River she couldn't have gotten more drenched. But after like 30 seconds of a constant and uninterrupted stream of hot piss, it kinda got awkward.
PissGirl "Oh my god!!! Are you ever going to stop!!! Were is all this coming from?!?!?"
Tucker "I can't stop, it'll burn. Just ride it out, it can't go on forever, I'm not R.Kelly."
She should be out tomorrow night after the signing. If you come to Boomerangs, you can get a treat; the Tattoo Girl and the PissGirl, in one place. Oh yeah...PissGirl thinks that Tattoo Girl is hot, and wants to have a threesome with her and I...at this point, I've run out of jokes.
EDIT#1: You know, now that I think about it, it might be funny to date a girl who likes to be pissed on, even if everyone knew. Think about the humor:
-You could come up with all sorts of fun nicknames for her. Mike called her the "Toilet brick with feet," or "Princess PeePee," or "Urinal Cake'ems."
-Everytime you go to the bathroom, you can make jokes about, "It's just not the same without my girl there." Or when you are at a public urinal, you can say things like this to strangers, "My girlfriend likes it when I do this on her."
-You have a new excuse to watch the Chapelle Show, season 1.
-Anytime she gets mad, there is all sorts of humor to be had with her being "pissed."
-You could hang up Andres Serrano's "Piss Christ" in your house, and instead of being offensive, it would be erotic.
-You can drive much further on road trips without having to stop at bathrooms.
EDIT#2: She just called me:
PissGirl "Tucker I just read the story! I don't want to be known as PissGirl!"
Tucker "Well, you should have thought of that before you asked me to micturate all over you."
PissGirl "No, but Tucker I want to run for public office one day, this will ruin it."
Tucker "Well, your real name isn't anywhere in the story. The only way people will know it's you is if you tell them."
PissGirl "Oh, OK...can we fuck again, that was so hot last night."
EDIT#3: I just got this email, and I want to respond to it, because it raises a good point.
"I just wanted to weigh in for all the college guys who give you shit for hanging around college girls; it's not a matter of not liking you or thinking you're uncool, it's that you are a 30 year old hitting on and hooking up with 20 year olds, and that is like us as 20 year olds hooking up with 15 year olds. Good for you, except we go to jail for the same kind of behavior. And no one wants to go to jail or have sex with 15 year old girls. So do us a favor and stick to the 25+ year olds and give us a chance."
In a way, I relate to this guys pain. I can remember being 20 and seeing girls my age dating older guys and getting pissed about it. It sucks being that age because the girls date up, but except for a few very lucky or talented guys, no 20 year old is fucking 27 year old women. And like he says, you can't date down because of age restrictions, so you have a very limited pool of girls to choose from. Dude, I get how much that sucks.
But I want to make one thing clear: I DO NOT hit on college girls. I cannot remember the last time I went up to a 18-22 year old girl and initiated a conversation with the intent of hooking up with her. In both my real life and on this book tour, all the girls that age that I fuck come to me. They read the site and the book and they make a conscious, informed decision to initiate contact with the intent of fucking me.
Look man, I know it must drive you nuts that I don't even have time for all this pussy, all the while you have to work your ass off for any at all. I honestly relate, I was in the same basic boat at your age. When I was 20 I never understood why girls my age tended to date older guys, but now I do. You know why girls your age come to me instead of you? It's because most all college guys suck (definitely including me when I was your age. I sucked a metric ton of bull ass back then; I think back to what I was like, and almost can't believe that I got laid at all). I cannot tell you how many 18-22 year old girls over the past three years have come to me because they are so tired of the idiot guys their age and wanted someone who acted like a man and knew what he was doing. Most of the time, it's not even that I'm that great, it's simply that I suck a lot less than guys your age.
You may not understand what I am saying, but think about it like this: You ever go back to your high school? What do you think of the guys there right now? You probably look at them and say to yourself, "These guys suck. I hope I wasn't like them at their age."
Do I have to draw you a map from there?
EDIT#4: This is an email I just got from PissGirl, three days later:
"Tucker,
I cant believe im saying this, but im really happy that you didnt have piss anxiety and that you pissed over a gallon of urine all over my body. Today I was at my office and some guys asked me if I read the story about the girl you had pissed on. Im pretty sure that I immediatly got red and gave them a deer in the headlights look while thinking omg do they know that Pissgirl is me? But after talking to them about it i have decieded that theres nothing weird or wrong about my fetish. Although i will never tell them that I am Pissgirl because i do not want to be considered human urinal for the rest of my life to every guy i sleep with. Honestly, they thought it was amazing that a girl let you piss all over her, and better yet they said that every guy wants to do this and how much of a turn on it would be to actually get the chance. After hearing this i was relieved... and even though u degraded me by pissed on me, its not like it changed the sex. I mean you pissed on me, then we still had passionate sex that was amazing. So i hope to get the oppertunity to have sex with you again because it was amazing and i hope aftwards you piss all over me...."
Tuesday, Feb 21st: Pittsburgh, PA
# of books sold: 66
# of books signed: 96
# of alcoholic drinks consumed: 15+
# of pictures taken with fans: 25+
# of girls I hooked up with: 1
Thanks: To The Tattoo Girl and to everyone at Boomerangs.
Highlights of the stop: I will always have something of a soft spot in my heart for this fucking hell hole of a city, mainly because the first girl to ever get my name tattooed on her and the first girl I ever pissed on are from here, but goddamn if last night wasn't a fucking shit show. Let's see:
-At the signing, a girl had me sign a maxi-pad for her to use as a bookmark.
-At the after party, a girl tried, with complete and utter sincerity, to get me to set up a Man Date between SlingBlade and her friend. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She went on and on about how similar they are and how they would get along so well...this bitch was so out of her fucking gourd she had me doubting my own sanity for a second.
-The meathead gorilla who looked like the son of WWF legend Dusty Rhodes, who would not stop pestering me about taking shots with him. The bartenders finally threw him out of the bar because he was annoying everyone.
-The two 18 year old kids who decided that they were going to hang out with me all night, and think they should contribute to a conversation about sex, when clearly neither had ever had his pecker touched without first producing a valid credit card. At least they eventually shut up.
-The two guys who invited me to some disgusting whore filled orgy at some podunk ranch in the middle of bumfuck Pennsylvania. Seriously, they wanted me to come back to Pittsburgh and go to an orgy with them. I am at a loss for words as to why someone would invite me to this.
-Six guys chanting my name as I walked into Boomerangs. Possibly the most awkward moment of my life.
But all of these people combined don't even show up on the radar of annoyance when compared to a person who will forever be known as "TheDouche." I thought that no one would be able to top the DudeInTheYellowHat from FSU in terms of being annoying and bothersome, but TheDouche has proven me wrong.
I debated whether I would call him out by name and decided against it for two reasons. 1. He runs a website that focuses on Pitts campus that gets very little traffic and I don't want to give him any more, and 2. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of being called out by name. I reserve that honor for people who not only deserve it, but who wouldn't want it to happen, and TheDouche would probably take some weird pleasure in having his name on my site--even in a negative light--so he doesn't get it.
It all started two nights ago when he called me for an interview for his site. The interview went fine, whatever, but something about the guy wasn't right; he seemed like one of those guys who tries too hard to be cool. Whatever, it was just a phone conversation, I didn't think anymore about it. He showed up at the signing, and as soon as he walked in the TattooGirl--who goes to Pitt just like TheDouche--goes "Oh no, not him." I was signing some books and failed to pick up on this cue quickly enough.
TheDouche "Hey Tucker, I'm TheDouche, the guy who interviewed you for my miniscule website that I won't shut the fuck up about. Let me tell you about how important I am."
Alright, those were not even close to his exact words, but that is pretty much what happened over the 45 minutes; this dude would not stop talking about himself and how much he meant to Pitt and its student body and how much he had helped promote me and blah, blah, blah. Whatever, I am kinda used to this so I just ignored him.
Right before he was about to leave, I decided to give him a book, as a thank you for helping out, even though the only thing I had seen him do was be annoying, but whatever, maybe all he wants is a free book. If it'll shut him up and make him go away, then fine, it's worth the $5. I started to ask him his name (because I had forgotten it), so I could sign it:
Tucker "Hey man, what is your-" and he cut me off. The motherfucker had his phone in his hand and was about to dial someone, and literally held his finger up to me in a "wait a second" gesture.
By no means am I insinuating that I am such a star that I take priority over everything; it was more the way he did it, as if to say "I'm so imporant, you have to wait for me." It was a display of assclownery the likes of which I have never seen before. Mike looked at me in stunned disbelief and said, "What the fuck is going on?" I should have known what was coming next, but not even I could predict what a tool he really was.
After the signing, TattooGirl, KungFu Mike and I went to the bar and started drinking. Not 20 minutes after we got there, TheDouche showed up. I hadn't really paid attention to what he was wearing until he showed up at the bar. He was a caricature of a stereotype; gelled and meticulously tussled hair giving the "I just got out of bed...and spent an hour on my hair" look favored by metrosexuals the world over, carefully trimmed five o'clock shadow, new corduroy jacket with just the right amount of pre-packed "wear" to it, Hush Puppies, and of course, the hallmark of the hipster: The military surplus shoulder bag for his books, complete with slightly frayed straps and hastily sown on unit patches. If I wanted to go to Halloween as a Collegiate Hipster Doofus, I would just wear his exact outfit.
Tucker "Oh look, Professor Douche is here. Good thing he brought his book bag with him to the bar. Maybe he can get some reading done."
TattooGirl "Please make him leave."
KungFu Mike "I can't handle this dude. If he tries to talk to me I'm going to smash this pint glass on the bar and take my own life with the shards."
As bad as he was at the signing, TheDouche was 10x worse at the bar. TheDouche is the type of guy that no matter what you are talking about, he has a story about it. If you are talking about safari's, he's taken down all sorts of big game. If you are talking about Salvador Dali, he is an expert on surrealist painting. If you are talking about the alcohol content of beer, he knows the precise percentages of every beer on the market. He is a classic one-upper.
And he has to insinuate himself into every conversation. Mike asks me what stop we are going to tomorrow? TheDouche yells the answer. TattooGirl asks Mike what he thinks about Slipknot? TheDouche's opinion cannot be contained. I ask the bartender what alcohols go in a Surfer On Acid? TheDouche comes to the rescue (even though he was wrong).
He kept talking about how popular the site was that he runs. When he logged onto it in front of us at the signing, there were 14 people online. He told me a story about how the most they'd ever had at once was 150, and the server crashed...even though his site is hosted by GoDaddy. OK buddy. He kept telling anyone who would listen about how important he was, but he didn't have one friend at the bar, and no girl with him. After spending an hour on the phone, he did bring one girl out, but she was a lesbian and came out to meet TattooGirl. There was an undergrad girl hanging out with us, "Marsha," and she filled me in on the dude,
"I can't stand him. No one on campus can. He thinks he is so cool, but pretty much everyone hates him. He advertises parties on his site, and they pack with dorks and then the cops come and break them up."
But it gets even better. You know that guy, the one who continually makes stupid jokes and doesn't pick up on the fact that no one thinks he's funny? Welcome to TheDouche. He kept calling TattooGirl all these non-sensical nicknames like "Blowjobs" or "SweatFace." These aren't little inside jokes that he was making; she only knows him by reputation and first met her last night, he is just a fucking tool who isn't funny. But the kicker for was this quote by him,
"So Tucker, when are you going to do something crazy? I want to see a Tucker Max moment, so I can write about it. My readers want to know."
He wasn't being funny or ironic, he was being serious. My response might have been the closest I've ever come to giving someone an authentic Michael Corleone stare.
OK fine, some people suck, he must have picked up on the fact that we couldn't stand him and left, right? I mean, who is so stupid that they spend all night with people who ignore them, roll their eyes at everything they say, openly mock them to their face, and call them an idiot in front of other people? You have to realize that it's time to find another place to hang out, right? No, that would require a modicum of social skills to do that. THREE FUCKING TIMES when he went to the bathroom or walked outside to take a call, we moved to a different part of the bar and each time he came back, the same stupid look on his face, sidling up to our conversation. One time, we were sitting at a bar table and some people were standing around because there weren't enough stools. When he got up to go to the bathroom, he pointed to the stool and said "holdsies." I swear to Christ, you can ask anyone who was there. Of course someone took his seat, and when he got back he acted all offended.
TheDouche "Dude, I called holdsies."
Tucker "What are you, fucking 12? Holdsies? Is this a fucking field trip? Are we in a middle school lunch room? Shut the fuck up, you fucking tool and go get another stool. Better yet, sit somewhere else."
Mike and I both kept saying shit like this to him, but he never got it. The only reason I didn't fully call him out hours beforehand was because TattooGirl was all about the lesbian girl he brought out. I didn't want to cock-block her, so I just told him to shut up a few times and ignored him the rest of the time. It worked ok, until the end of the night, when we were ready to leave. There were five of us leaving together; Marsha and I were going to fuck, TattooGirl and TheLesbian were going to fuck, and Mike, who wasn't going to fuck because he thought the girl who kept hitting on him was too fat.
I explicitly told TheDouche that he was not invited back to TattooGirl's place. His eyes were on mine when I said this, but with that stupid look on his face, I wasn't sure if he understood the meaing of the words or not. The five of us left the place, and started walking when I casually looked behind us...and there was TheDouche, not even 20 feet behind us.
Tucker "What the fuck are you doing?"
TheDouche "I live on [some street name]. It's two streets over. I'm not following you."
Tucker "Whatever."
TheDouche "I'm not following you guys."
Two blocks later, we pass the street he said he lived on, and lo and behold, he doesn't turn down that street. There he is, now 10 feet behind us.
Tucker "What are you doing, you just passed your street, you dipshit."
TheDouche. "I am just walking. I can walk anywhere I want."
I lost it. Mike and I turned to face him and Marsha stood behind me, and the other two girls kept going forward, wanting to get away from the inevitable disaster.
Tucker "Why are you following us you fucking dork? You're worse than herpes. Get the fuck out of here. Now."
TheDouche "Whatever, two of those three girls are my friends, I can go with them."
Tucker "They are? OK, Marsha, is he your friend?
Marsha "Uhh...I met him at a party once."
Tucker "Is he your friend?"
Marsha "Uhh....he is an acquaintance, I guess."
Tucker "You fucking loser, this girl won't even claim you as a friend. Go away you fucking leech, before I end you."
TheDouche "Whatever, they are my friends, I can stay if I want."
Tucker "Are you a fucking fag? Do you want to watch me fuck these girls, you fucking fag? Better yet, do you want to fuck me? What the fuck do you want?"
Marsha ran off to the other girls, and TheDouche just kinda stood there, looking like the idiot that he is.
Tucker "They are your friends? You run this campus? You want a Tucker story? OK, I want you to try and stop me from fucking. Go run up there and tell them anything you want, and try to stop me. You want your story you fag, there it is. You can't do it, I am calling you out."
He turned and ran up to them. I literally had to hold Mike back from chasing him down and donkey punching the dude into oblivion.
Tucker "Mike, let him hang himself. It'll be funnier this way, I promise."
Mike is seething as we walk behind the three girls and TheDouche, who is running around them and gesticulating wildly. We catch up to them at TattooGirls's place. TheDouche is still talking some sort of dork nonsense, and the girls are kinda looking at him with contempt that was palpable to everyone but Captain Socially Oblivious.
Tucker "Did it work? They convinced not to fuck me?"
TheDouche "Yeah, that's fine, just fuck them Tucker."
Tucler "Do you realize what a fucking tool you are? Do you not know that EVERYONE in the bar was mocking you the whole fucking time you were there?"
TheDouche "Whatever.".
Tucker "You don't believe me? TattooGirl, who was everyone in the bar making fun of?
TattooGirl "Him."
Tucker "Marsha, who is the biggest tool at Pitt?"
Marsha "Him."
Tucker "You are a fucking loser. Go away."
We start walking into TattooGirl's place, when TheDouche starts wailing, "WHATEVER, JUST GO FUCK ALL OF THEM. GO FUCK TUCKER MAX."
Is this guy serious? I stormed over and got right in his face, "Turn around right now and leave before I hit you in the fucking mouth. NOW."
Without saying a word, utter defeat in his eyes, TheDouche turned and walked away. I won't even make a joke like "He went home and kicked his dog," because he's too much of a pussy to even do that.
I keep trying to tell you people: The essence of coolness is simply being comfortable with who you are, whatever that is. TheDouche is the perfect example of someone who is the opposite of what I preach. He is a born and bred toolbag who has tried to socially engineer his way to coolness. He wears the clothes he "thinks" he's supposed to wear and acts the way he thinks "cool" people act instead of just being his natural self, and because of this everything he does comes off as forced, awkward and annoying. Cool is not a look or a style of dress or even a way of acting, it is a state of mind. Anyone who is comfortable with themselves can be cool, it almost doesn't matter what you are like...as long as you aren't like TheDouche.
EDIT#1: The response I have received to the above post has been overwhelming. At least two dozen emails, every single one thanking me for calling TheDouche out. When Marsha told me that "everyone" on campus hated him, I thought that she was being a typical 19 year old and just meant "her and her friends," but apparently she wasn't exagerrating. Here are a few of the emails I've gotten about this:
"Tucker, when I heard that you were coming to Pitt I nearly pissed my pants. Now you can imagine the disgust I felt when I saw the biggest tool on campus sitting two seats to your left. I thought that there could be no way in hell that Tucker-fucking-Max would even be in the same vicinity as TheDouche. However, I nearly wept with joy when I read your 100% accurate description of that fuck nut. I'm embarrased that he even told you about [his site] (the shittiest site EVER) and on behalf of the decent people at Pitt, I'd like to offer my sincerest appologies."
"ok can i please just tell you how much that little article made my day!?! that is everything i wish i could say to the motherfucker and i am so glad someone so far over his head was the one to do it. you have no idea how many people fucking love you for what you did... mainly me. and for that i would bang you in a heart beat!! not to mention if you happen to make another appearance at pitt any time in the fall definately give me a heads up so you can come and drink with all the pitt students who DONT support TheDouche..."
"Hey i'm a pitt student and I read your write-up for here. TheDouche um lemme guess.......[name redacted]. The kid is a stone cold boner. Finally someone put that fruitcake in his place. Nice work."
"First off, thank you for making Pittsburgh a stop on your book signing trip. Thanks for the signed book and the couple for my buddies in law school.
Above all, thank you for calling out [name redacted]. I could not stop laughing at your post. The kid thinks that he is a god on this campus and pisses a lot of people off. I'm in a fraternity here at Pitt and we usually will post parties on his site just because it's an easy way to advertise for a party. Apparently because we post on this site he feels that he is able to walk into our parties and claim them as his own. On countless occasions I've personally had issues with him. Your post could not have described this kid any better."
"sorry to bother you but TheDouche is the biggest tool on Pitt's campus and most if not all know it....THANK YOU for tearing him apart as you did. hopefully it will shut him and his gay ass website that no one uses up."
"SHIT TUCKER! You hit the nail right on the head with your blog on "TheDouche". He tried to defend himself on his site (which I must admit, I do go on, but only for more material to make fun of him with), saying you were going to exaggerate what happened and make things up. But anyone that has ever even met him knows that what you said is true...
Yes, he thinks he owns the city, this campus, and every living thing here. He is on the biggest imaginary power trip ever. He got in a fight with a friend of mine, put her- this tiny little 5 foot nothing girl- in a head lock and told her that her "social life at Pitt is over, [she is] socially fucked- Blacklisted, and [would] never go to another party at Pitt". All because she told his ex-girlfriend that her "expensive" final fantasy Halloween costume looked like toilet paper.
How many times has he gotten her (or anyone else) kicked out of a party: 0.
How many times has he tried and gotten "no dude this isn't your party fuck off" in reply: more times than I can count.
Yet every time he fails to get her kicked out, he claims that he decided to "let her stay at the party." His ignorance to the fact that everyone hates him and is annoyed by his presence baffles me. I could go on, but I wont. I hate the mother fucker, but I so enjoy making fun off him."
"I just wanted to thank you tremendously for calling out TheDouche. I seriously can't even tell you how much pleasure i got from reading your post. EVERY fucking person on campus hates this fag. He thinks he runs parties, everyone likes him, and he can get any girl he wants. Basically, no one has had the balls to call him out and let him know how much of a fucking cunt he really is. No one likes or uses his website or if they do it's usually so they can laugh at how pathetic this faggot is. So thank you 1,000 times."
I could post a few dozen more like this, but I am going to stop now, I think you get the point.
Wednesday, Feb 22nd: Ann Arbor, MI
# of books sold: 67
# of books signed: 109
# of alcoholic drinks consumed: 15+
# of pictures taken with fans: 30+
# of girls I hooked up with: 2
Thanks: To everyone at Scorekeepers for setting everything tuup, you guys were great.
Highlights of the stop: This was one of my favorite stops; it was very relaxed and chill, most of the people who came out were cool and everything just went really smoothly. The highlight was probably the two girls who brought me a gift basket that included a vibrating cock-ring, a breast lollipop and some edible oils. I wanted to try the cock ring out on the blonde girl, but we didn't end up getting together last night. You know who you are sweetie, email me if you ever want to use it with me and we'll figure something out.
EDIT#1: Before the signing I hooked up with a virgin. She drove in from somewhere in Michigan because she wanted to lose her virginity to me. Sounds fucked up right? Believe it or not, this happens a lot. About 7-8 times over the last few years. All teh girls say the same thing, and it makes sense when they explain it; generally speaking, they want to lose their virginity to someone who knows what he is doing, who won't fall in love with them and who she wouldn't fall in love with, and they want to do it in a controlled situation under her terms, and not in a random or hap-hazard way. All but one of these encounters have gone surprisingly well. Who would have thought?
Before we had sex, Virgin, Mike and I had lunch at some restaurant. I was talking to her about sex, trying to calm her nerves and explaining to her what she should expect. When the issue of bleeding came up, she offered up quite the shock.
Virgin "Oh, I don't think I'll bleed that much, I've already popped my cherry."
Tucker "Ummm...do you know how this virginity thing works?"
Virgin "Yes, duh, but I am a virgin."
Tucker "OK, how?"
Virgin "I've never had a penis in me, but a few months ago I was hooking up with this guy, and well...he was violently finger-banging me and when he stopped, there was blood everywhere."
Mike and I both fell out of the booth laughing. I haven't laughed that hard for months.
[For those who care: The sex went fine, she didn't bleed at all and was quite happy with the experience.]
EDIT#2: The girl I hooked with after the signing was a cool girl and we had a great time together, but she kinda depressed me a little. I met her at the signing and flirted with her and after she made it clear she wanted to fuck, she sat down next to me and we were talking about various things.
Tucker "So I'm curious, why is it you want to fuck me?"
Girl "Well, I've only ever had sex with two guys, and both cases I was in love and was in a committed relationship. I want to have meaningless, emotionally vacant sex, to see what it's like."
All I could do was laugh. Fellas, be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.
Go to The Tucker Max Book Tour Running Update, Part 4
Posted by Tucker Max at 12:30 AM