“Light blue button-down and khakis at ten o’clock,” he replies without looking in that direction. “Patchy goatee. I overheard him tell his date that Ryan Adams is misunderstood.”
“I’ll fetch the cyanide.” I pluck a bottle of blueberry schnapps from the bottom shelf.
There’s a woman gallantly putting in the work of listening to Goatee Guy. She’s laughing in that forced way you do when someone’s not genuinely funny, but you need to show your appreciation for their attempts at humor. He hasn’t asked her a question all night. Still, when the guy leans in for a kiss, she tilts her headup.
For an establishment that survives on nostalgic vibes andselfie ops, plenty of bad decisions are made at Lokahi at the end of the night. They look even worse when I’m the sober witness to these slow-motion disasters.
It is not, by any rational means, a good place to work. But Hal makes it bearable. Neither of us has the right attitude to be employed in customer-facing roles. At least once a shift, Hal gets the urge to kill some asshole’s vibe by creatively fucking up a drink in a way that makes it taste a little off, but not quite gross enough to send back. We watch the victim silently choose whether to just choke it down or complain. It’s my favorite part of the night.
Comics tell storiesin a way that’s different from books, movies, or eight-part social media story times about cheating boyfriends.
When I first started making comics, I tried to draw sequences as objectively true-to-life as possible, which meant my pages were boring as shit. I didn’t understand that my favorite comics to read were the ones that boiled everything down to the most visceral moments. That’s the way our memories operate: comic panels are like snapshots. They have exaggerated angles and perspectives that aren’t quite possible, creating a series of impressions. Each panel, one moment.
For example, here’s how I remember meeting Hal three years ago:
Rule: Settings can be expressive. Locations represent state of mind.
Panel 1:We begin with an establishing shot: the interior of a shitty comics store. Sagging bookshelves against the walls and bins of comics in the rear. Various men with poor posture browse the books and toys.
Rule: No need to draw hyperrealistic characters. Use visual shorthand.
Panel 2:Behind the counter, a young man with shaggy hair under a knit cap leans way back on a chair, reading. He’s wearing a hat, so I would draw him as Archie’s friend, Jughead Jones, if Jughead was permitted to age into his midtwenties. He’s good-looking in a sort of lanky, slightly unkempt way. The book he’s reading? Not a comic. It’s fucking Camus. (I wish I were making this up for dramatic effect, but it’s absolutely true.) The proverbial Chekhov’s coffee cup is perched precariously on the edge of the counter. No lid. He lives dangerously.
Next to him is his boss, a middle-aged schlub. He is Comic Book Guy fromThe Simpsons,with that scraggly goatee. He’s deep in one-sided conversation with a customer who could be his doppelgänger. In fact, I might draw every other customer in the store as Comic Book Guy because that’s how I remember them. Again, shorthand.
Now we have our setting, our love interest, our antagonist. What about our hero?
You know how in dreams it’s impossible to drill down to the details and nuances of faces? How you can’t look in a mirror and see your reflection? That’s how I feel about drawing myself. Which is why I gave up and began imagining myself as Lydia Deetz from theBeetlejuicecartoon.
Panel 3:Lydia Deetz’s adult sister brushes her dark bangs back from her eyes as she digs through a box of comics.
Panel 4:Close-up on Lydia’s hand, holding a copy ofVision and the Scarlet Witch#4.
I went up to the counter topolitelyinquire about lowering the price. Comic Book Guy continued his monologue, completely ignoring me, until I loudly cleared my throat, handing over the issue.
He looked at the cover and scoffed, holding up the book to his doppelgänger.
Comic Book Guy
Remember this one? Garbage.
Doppelgänger
WandaVisionwas such shit.
Panel 5:Lydia leans over the counter, her elbow just a few inches from the coffee cup.
Lydia
You’re the one asking twenty dollars forit.
Rule: Don’t be afraid to heighten dialogue in a thought bubble.
Comic Book Guy (Thinking)
I feel threatened by the presence of a woman because I’m extremely insecure about my sexual abilities, which is why I chose a profession where I lord my knowledge of G.I. Joe over other men who look exactly likeme!
That’s what his facial expression said, at least.
