A date with a plus one, and leaving school.
In this video? Ask for a change or have it taken down.
A note before this one: Alex talks about a hard stretch at college and what it did to him. He raises it himself in the first seconds, and it sits here where he put it.
Four minutes outside on a night out in Fort Collins, with a young man who has left school and is happy about it. The tape starts mid-thought, on how the years in student housing felt: “it’s hard to be a college student confined space every single year”, and, without softening it, “it fucks with your mentality”. What he takes from it is not advice so much as permission. “do whatever you feel like you need to do, you know, no matter what.”
He notices the camera almost at once and gets self-conscious about the small crowd watching, then picks it back up. “I had a rough time during my dorm period”, he says, and then, with the honesty that carries the whole video, “I genuinely don’t know what to say anymore, bro.”
What he does have is a story. “I’m on a fucking Tinder date with this girl”, he says, except she has arrived with somebody else: “she’s like, all right, that’s my plus one, but don’t let him know that I like you.” He is caught between politeness and the exit. “should I just dip, bro? Like, this shit’s choppy. This seems like madness.” Maceo, holding the mic, is blunter about it than he is, saying he thinks it is trash and that she might be finessing him. Alex half agrees, half defends her: “I mean, all I’m saying is like, you can like somebody. I’m like, all right, well, disrespectful as hell, but like, all right.” When the questions keep coming he laughs and calls it: “You’re clip farming me, bro.”
They swap names late, and the interviewer explains what he is doing there, in town for a songwriting camp and shooting content around it. Alex, it turns out, is not from Colorado. “living in Colorado is dope. It’s an awesome place. Everybody’s very understanding”, he says, but “I had a tough time here because I’m from Illinois”, and the lesson he lands on is a small one held firmly: “everybody lives their life differently. Everybody does everything differently.”
Asked how he feels having left school, the answer is immediate. “Great. Honestly, I just work at a restaurant. I make money. I cook food. I love cooking food.” Pressed on a favourite dish he shrugs it off, then gives one anyway: “I love some steak. I love some mashed potatoes. I’m good at cooking gravy, dog.” Then he wishes everyone a good night and goes back to it.
