Movies like How to Talk to Girls at Parties are aimed at people like me (or people who are like me, but 10 years younger): Punks, weirdos, kids with dyed hair, heroic goths wearing all black on a hot summer day, teens making an argument for wearing combat boots to a wedding. I am you. Or, I was you.
I’m protective of punk, though I came to it in the ’90s. I never owned a studded belt, but I’ve moshed and fought and stood on cars. I forgot to put my facial piercings back in after work, but you can still see their scars. I don’t know what the experience of being a young male punk is like, but it seems like maybe I should at this point, because that’s the perspective we always seem to get. What’s life like for this one regular punk guy? If you still don’t know—if SLC Punk, Rude Boy, or Trainspotting didn’t tell you—then How to Talk to Girls at Parties is here to tell you again.
