I Weaponized My Face for Free Alcohol

Warning! This post contains:

• one (1) statistically significant bitch face

• a turtle head (non-fecal), and

• mutual longing for boobs (peer-reviewed).

Reader discretion is advised. So is biting a pencil sideways.

I haven’t been charged for alcohol on Southwest Airlines for my last four flights. I’ve only asked for one drink each time, so maybe the first drink is on the house. Is that a thing? I always get the cheap tickets, so it’s not a business perk. Idk, but let’s see what happens.

I’m on a flight to Arizona now. I just gave the flight attendant a big dumb toothy smile, and immediately felt gross. Was it genuine, or was I just trying to keep my free-drink streak alive? It’s a real conundrum. I feel phony, but four free drinks could be coincidence. Five’s clickbait. Five free drinks is a solid Substack hack — a wet dream for any aggressively mediocre life coach out there.

The behavioral science

It reminds me of a behavioral science experiment by Nobel Prize winner Daniel Kahneman. He proved you could fake it ‘til you make it.

Each participant was asked to fill out a survey ... with a pencil in their mouth. It’s a weird catch, but the researchers were brilliant. One group had to bite down on the middle of a pencil turned sideways. The other group had to turn the pencil away from their face and bite down on the very end.

Results revealed that the “middle” group answered the survey more positively. But why? They were the same questions.

Turns out, it’s because the “middle” group was unwittingly forced to “smile!” Try it out. Turn a pencil sideways and bite down. Whether you like it or not, you’re smiling like a little bitch now 😁 … go on, look in the mirror. You look ridiculous.

Researchers found that when smile muscles are engaged, the brain releases endorphins that make you happy, even when you don’t know you’re smiling and there’s nothing to be beaming about.

The “end” group was just as fascinating. Those sad sacks were forced to purse their lips, engaging all the frown muscles as they bit down on the eraser. Their responses had a statistically significant correlation to their bitch face.

Behavioral scientists also discovered that when somebody smiles at you, even if you don’t smile back, the muscles in your face responsible for turning frowns upside down will automatically be primed — ready to go basically. Unless, of course, you’re the 1-in-20 psychopath who doesn’t like … I don’t know, babies in bubble wrap. That’s not a thing, but hang with me. It’s just a thought experiment. Even if you hate babies, surely you’d poke a few to pop the bubble wrap.

I digress — back to the science. The nerds went on to prove that even external smiles caused participants to answer questions more positively.

Even if your smile muscles are just barely triggered, your brain takes a shortcut and starts pumping out good vibes like, “Wahoooooo! Wayne’s World! Party time! Excellent!”

So, back to the million-dollar question.

Was my smile fake?

Abso-fucking-lutely! ... not. Yes and no. It started off a bit fake. I was wishfully thinking at first, but here’s what’s up:

The very act of smiling was already hacking my brain — and everyone else’s — creating a domino effect as the flight attendant’s smile spread down the aisle. I basically launched a smile grenade that primed the whole plane with joy juice.

The lady looked tired. She had been on her feet all day, so when I gave her a small gesture of gratitude, she reciprocated. Her smile was big and biologically persuasive, which genuinely made me happy. We shared a moment.

And once that free Hornito’s Margarita touched my lips, I was smiling ear to ear. Juices were flowing. My jams were bangin’.

A red-headed baby was crying

He was looking my way as he stood on Momma’s lap. Looked like he wanted a boob. Any boob — left or right — didn’t matter. When we locked eyes, we immediately connected over our mutual longing for boobs.

I turned my tongue into a hot dog and poked it out a little, like a turtle head peaking out to see if the coast is clear. Little Dude scrunched his nose up, and we had a laugh. He forgot about the tears streaming down his face, then plopped down on his Momma’s lap and got to business suckin’ them titties.

Lucky guy.

Turtle head 🐢

It was my first nickname. When I was a baby, I had a big hoodie, so when I had enough of all the hoopla, I’d retreat back into my “shell.”

I’d usually max out my people quota by late morning, right after my brunch boob. Occasionally, I’d stick my little turtle head out, and if the world was still people-ing, I’d go right back in.

You can call me Turtle Head if you want, but you have to think of me fondly and not about noncommittal unpinchable poops.

Say it ten times fast.

“Noncommittal unpinchaple…

STOP! It was rhetorical. Don’t take me so seriously.

That was a bit of a non sequitur, but to bring it back, overtime I learned to stick my neck out and connect with the other turtles on Turtle Island.

Give yourself a smile. Then give it to someone else. Doesn’t matter if you have to force it. A little smile, even if you’re not really feeling it, can make someone’s day. That person will likely reciprocate love or laughter — a reaction that makes you feel something real. At this point, nobody’s pretending.

Jiffy Lube Love ❤️

I tried it out the other day on the young lady at Jiffy Lube. As I walked up to pay, she rejoiced, “You’re my last customer!” to which I replied, “Congratulations!!! Booyeah!”

Just making it through another day can sometimes take everything you have.

“Do those guys in the garage give you a hard time?”

“Yeah. It’s the guy ...”

She turned to see if she could see Douche Bag through the door window.

“I know who you’re talking about. I heard his tone. I’m sorry.”

As she punched a few buttons on the keyboard, I saw my $145-dollar bill magically drop down to $66 dollars. Not only did she give me the 50% employee discount but…

“I think we have another 5% deal this week that I can tack on.”

Booyakasha!

Back to the present. I saw the flight attendant collecting payments, but as she passed by, the lady didn’t give me her little terminal. She gave me a big dumb toothy smile.

The plane landed with my five-free-drink streak intact, ready to emotionally manipulate and clickbait a bunch of Substackers into smiling. I should really write a self-help book.

Am I lucky? Nah. You get what you ask for. You get lucky.

My lady knows what it means when I’m smiling at her.

I was a red-headed baby once 👶

I’ll leave you with India Arie.

“It doesn’t cost a thing to smile.

You don’t have to pay to laugh.”

There’s hope!