Whoa, cowboy. You think this here’s my first rodeo?

What, because I talk funny? Because I called your saloon a coworking pod? Because I palo santoed your game of Texas hold ‘em? Better be a Theragun in one of your holsters, ’cause you’re sorely mistaken.

I know rodeo. I never met a Bronco (gas, EV, or otherwise) with too much buck.

Fact is, we’re not so different. I can tell you got the soul of a drifter. I was raised on the open road, too. On the weekends for one summer. In a Mercedes Sprinter van.

We even got the same “Yeehaw” tattoo. Mine only looks like it says “ouiheaux” because it got horribly infected. Not because I fly my tattoo artist in from Paris and he’s easily confused by English phonetics.

Sure, I look a little wet behind the ears. Is it a sin for a cowboy to have dewy skin? Next round of Ritual Whiskey (Zero Proof) says none of you can guess my age within five years. Didn’t think so, varmint! Been moisturizing since I was knee-high to a goldendoodle.

I won’t be intimidated by the leathery, weathered brows I see sizing me up. But I will be moved by sympathy for all the grade two and three sun damage I see. Nothing a little youth-fortifying collagen can’t fix. Here’s my card for referral bonuses at La Mer. Yippie-ki-yi-yay!

Can we cut the tomfoolery, or you chuckleheads wanna keep playin’ games?

I didn’t come lookin’ to duel, but I ain’t afraid to get my hands dirty neither—on account of I brought plenty of backup. Say hello to my friends: Aesop (waterless hand wash) and Aesop (liquid deodorant).

Afraid you’re right about this town not being big enough for the both of us—‘cause it ain’t zoned right for the both of us. But with a little sway in the county supervisor’s office, that’ll be fixed lickety-split.

Surprise partner—I ain’t here to fight you. I’m here to franchise you.

The meanest venture capital crackerjacks west of Wall Street sent me to wrangle a deal for the land this establishment’s sittin’ on. Come hell or high water—or three Barry’s Bootcamps and countless transplants fleeing WeHo—we’re all gonna put this fine burg on the map and make out like bandits.

Ready to saddle up with the development team behind the future Lifestyle Center at Gold Springs Palm Plaza + Mixed-Use Development? I’ll give you fellers till sunrise to decide. Ask for me at the nearest Erewhon. Turmeric Crush smoothies on me.

Ouiheaux.