John Mayer May Very Well

‎"Are you fucking serious?" 

"It's fucking crazy, man, I know." 

"I mean, this is like Andy Kaufman shit! But better, WAY better!" 

"I know, I'm telling you, he's a fucking genius." 

"How'd you guys meet?"

"Um, well, I had this studio on 18th near the West Side Highway. He just walked in one day. He was the first person to buy one of my 911 pieces. He bought this one where I close in one of the windows on the north tower, you know, just before it collapses. You really had to get right up close to see it, but through the smoke and flames you can make out this person, this sort of ghost like figure walking by, eating a bagel or a doughnut maybe."

"I remember that one. So who's the person, the ghost?"

"People used to ask me that all the time. I'm really not sure. I painted John Wayne in there at first. But he didn't really work out. I painted him over with Elvis and then I painted over Elvis with James Dean. I put Ronald Reagan in there, Big Foot, fuckin’ Bugs Bunny. Nothing worked. I probably painted a hundred different images in there. The whole thing just seemed stupid and obvious."

"So who is it then?"

"Well, I was just about to say fuck it and toss the painting out, but then I went out to get coffee one day and as I’m walking, I see this homeless man with this big white Santa Clause beard. He had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I mean, just piercing blue eyes. He was living in a box by that big building on 8th ave."

"You went all the way over to 8th for coffee?"

"Yeah, I liked that place over there, that muffin shop place."

"Oh, yeah, I know that place. Paradise Muffin or something?"

"Yeah, that’s it. There was this girl that used to work there. I would go all the way over there for coffee just to look at her. Anyway, this homeless man... I mean, you should've seen this guy. I walked by him just as he lifted his head and looked up at the sky. I had never in my life seen a face like that. I mean, it was like he was from another planet. I’m telling you, his eyes, they were fucking incredible, man. He looked possessed, like he was seeing God.”

“The person in that painting didn’t have a beard though.”

“No, he’s not the person in the painting. But I started talking to this guy. He was really nice. It turned out he was this college professor who just went nuts one day. He lost everything, his wife, his home, his job, his kids.”

“What happened? Did he tell you what happened, what it was?”

“He said he didn’t know. He just woke up one day and everything felt meaningless. He had no desire to do anything ever again. He just took off and never looked back. He didn’t even take his wallet.”

“So who’s the person in the painting?”

“Well, we were talking and he asked me what I did and I told him and then I told him about the problem I was having with my painting and he said he knew exactly who it should be in the painting. But he said he couldn’t tell me who it was and that he would have to be the one that painted it.”

“No way! He painted it? You let him paint it?”

“Yeah. He did a good job too, don’t ya think? I have no idea who it is. I tried to pay him but he wouldn’t take it. I never saw him again.”

“That’s fucking awesome! Holy shit! Oh, man. Okay, so back to John Mayer. Are you fucking serious? You’re telling me the whole thing, his whole career is just one big sham?”

“Yeah, man. He worked the whole thing. He’s actually a really cool guy.”

“So like all his songs, they’re just like...”

“His whole thing is to see how disgusted he can make himself feel about himself.”

“But he has a good voice, he’s pretty talented.”

“I know. It’s just fucking brilliant, right? I’ve never met a more committed nihilist.”

“Man, that is just crazy.”