Business Cards


I was out at dinner when it happened. We were all having a nice evening, wine, cocktails, hoity toity banter, the works. But then when we were leaving something happened. First the guy next to me whipped it out. I was taken aback I’ll admit. Then another did it, right there at the table, just flopped it out. Suddenly everyone was doing it. I felt left out, because I did not have one. That’s right I’m talking about business cards.

After this event I thought I would get some printed of my own. Sadly I think all my knowledge of the subject comes from a documentary on Japanese business practice and the excellent dark comedy: American Psycho. Here’s what I know:

  • I don’t have one
  • I need one
  • It had better be awesome (but not too awesome)
  • or it will come back to kill me

In Japan a business card is like an extension of your soul. If you leave home without it, you might as well have walked out into the street without your face on. First, that doesn’t mean makeup. It’s not like you look like a lesbian without your business card. Second it doens’t mean you disgust people with your exposed eyes and muscle membranes. No it’s more related to the social notion of face and honor; to be without face is to be without honor. Hence why at dinner in the fancy yoga and 10$ beer district I was shamed with my lack of face.

To that end I have begun designing my face saving device. It sounds simple, but I’ve been at it for over a week and it’s not happening. How many ways can you arrand the words: Evan Abrams, Creative Consultant, a phone number, and an email adress. The answer is “all of them”. Also I cannot find a clear image of a shark eating a sheep to illustrate my personality and lifestyle.

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