I see them everyday.
They’re dressed funny. Either they’ve got weird haircuts, or strange rings, tattoos on their face, baggy pants down to their knees so you can see their underwear, hats on backwards, whatever. They talk in strange languages and go through unhealthy efforts to look cool and badass.
And in conversation it’s like talking to someone rehearsing a comedy routine. Yo yo yo, making little noises, flashing weird hand signs.
‘kay, I get it. You’re a badass. But why the hell do you need me to think you’re a badass?