The inspiration for a website called “certain rules” came over 15 years ago, when Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and I discussed compiling a list of what we thought were rules to live by. These rules would not be motivational tidbits, and would contain no trace of mindfulness or self-care, just two dudes with obsessive compulsive disorders upset that everybody else didn’t know how to behave in the very specific ways we thought that they should.
Part of what makes obsessive compulsive disorders so fun – and please accept the heavy layer of sarcasm I’m attempting to administer here – is the unreasonable amount of weight one may put behind the smallest things. Between the two of us, Matt with his well honed Obsessive Compulsive [behavioral] Disorder1 (the ever popular “O.C.D.”) – and myself, a walking billboard for Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder2 (less well known, but just as fun, “O.C.P.D.”), have a lot of incredibly strong feelings; mostly about what the majority of people would deem pretty unimportant. So what better way to manage these intrusive and upsetting thoughts than to amplify them? And subject everybody else to our unsolicited neurosis? (Again, a little sarcasm here…but also, here we go.)
Let this be an introduction to a new, and likely infrequent, addition to this serious(ish) blog about art: some actual certain rules. Let’s talk about samples.
I think one of the more obvious signs we collectively tolerate and actively encourage ridiculous public behavior, at detriment to all of society, is the practice of samples at the ice cream shop. Yes, those samples. This shit has got to stop.
We, (and by “we”, I mean ridiculous people that do not include me) have somehow grown to accept that, in order to make a flavor selection at the aforementioned ice cream shop, one requires – even deserves – several test spoonfuls. This is, of course, to ensure the most optimal flavor decision is made. Because god forbid you get anything but the very greatest.
First of all, this is ice cream – not some exotic delicacy appealing to a select few. If you are in an ice cream shop, you fucking like ice cream. Flavors that aren’t already painfully obvious [guess what? strawberry ice cream tastes of strawberries] are always explained in some manner because they want to sell it to you. And even if they aren’t, take a chance! Live a little! You’re already having ice cream! Worst case scenario you give it to somebody else and go buy yourself another. I promise, you will live.
Frankie & Jo’s in Seattle has a flavor called “California Cabin”. It’s got soapy pine and all sorts of pretentious ingredients in it, and you know what? I got some and it was great. Was it the best flavor available at the time? I have no idea, and I don’t care. Because I’m an adult.
This collective lack of commitment, specifically applied to one very specific food type, makes no sense at all. Why does this practice only apply to ice cream and its cold dessert brethren? I promise if you sat down at a restaurant, and politely suggested they serve you small forkfuls of food for free before ordering, you would be met with hostility. And you would deserve it. But ice cream, with its non-existent nutritional value and celebratory nature…that deserves more scrutiny than anything else. Ridiculous.
Perhaps it’s the social aspect of samples that people really want? They get to stand there, with an extremely patient and underpaid staff member at the ready, and point, and taste, and make faces. The exclamations! You get to put on a little show. You get to have a delicious treat, almost spoon fed directly into your wanting mouth, on demand and for free, because you walked in the door. And aren’t we all so lucky. Is this is the modern equivalent of scantily clad slaves feeding grapes to sandaled royalty? Probably. Yet we (again, the royal “we”, not me) partake in this egregious behavior because it’s somehow socially acceptable, even if it shouldn’t be. And it really shouldn’t be.
So next time you are in an ice cream shop, take a second to think what kind of mollycoddling you actually require. Does his or her highness need a taste? Or can you get that line moving, give the staff a break, and impress all of us with your decision making. Venture into uncertainty with a flavor that you are only 99% sure you will like. It’s rough, but we’ll get through it.
Obsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD) is a mental and behavioral disorder in which an individual has intrusive thoughts (an obsession) and feels the need to perform certain routines (compulsions) repeatedly to relieve the distress caused by the obsession, to the extent where it impairs general function. wikipedia
Obsessive–compulsive personality disorder (OCPD) is a cluster C personality disorder marked by a spectrum of obsessions with rules, lists, schedules, and order, among other things. Symptoms are usually present by the time a person reaches adulthood, and are visible in a variety of situations. wikipedia
Those guys aren't so tough. They're eating ice cream, what a bunch of swell guys.