You own four Red Sox caps, at least two of which are camo. You hate when weather dictates changing from your North Face fleece to your North Face puffy coat. You have three friends named Sully, none of whom carry the surname Sullivan. You are watching The Town right now. On your phone.
You graduated from Tennessee in 2001, and spend each Saturday during the fall dressing up your children in retina-burning orange and plying them with bags of burgers in the hope that they’ll fall asleep in your leased 2011 Honda Odyssey while you meet up with your friends during the tailgate and get tipsy enough to sing "Rocky Top" unselfconsciously. Your FICO credit score is slightly below average.
When you hear a weatherman say “blizzard,” your Pavlovian response dictates that you immediately open the freezer drawer and start shoving Oreos into the ice cream containers. At group dinners, you secretly cry inside when the group decides to forego dessert. You own Frozen on VHS, somehow.
You were the social chair of your fraternity two years in a row, which you keep claiming is “unprecedented.” You’ve gotten deep into Tinder, to the point where your friends are quietly concerned. You use the phrase “da shiznit” unironically.
Jack in the Box
You get the absolute most out of your Costco membership. You once ate a taco at a Mexican restaurant and swore off “ethnic” cuisine forever. You have lengthy bouts of insomnia.
You are deputy editor of High Times magazine.
You wanted to be deputy editor of High Times, but they promoted the guy who likes Taco Bell. Things are tense at work.