As you may guess (or know) SXSW has more than 30 particular showcases competing for anyone’s interest. Some shows have blandishments like free beer or food. Others just book the bands you want to see. For those that lack both, there are promoters.
While I appreciate that these guys have a type-A personality that I will never comprehend, I, as a consumer, abhor being accosted on the street. I also hate ignoring someone in need, which ultimately wins out. Below: a transcription.
Promoter: What are you doing Friday at 5?
Me: I’m busy.
Promoter: What show are you going to see?
Promoter: You’re just trying to lose me, right?
Promoter: Next time… be honest, that’s all.
Promoter pats me heartily on the back.
Once I got eight steps away from him, I gave my upper shoulder/back area a quick hand inspection, and felt confident that he hadn’t stuck something on me. But, this AM, I saw he used me as a walking billboard for the rest of the afternoon/night.
Fair play, young son. Fair play.