As many of you know, Prince is Minnesotan. So sometimes he releases a bizarre Vikings tribute song, sometimes he bumps into you in line at Kowalski’s. And sometimes you find out the last guy your new girlfriend slept with before you was Prince, or, wait, that her ex played in the New Power Generation, or like he ran sound for the band that opened for Prince at Bunkers on a night when Prince didn’t even show up. So if you’re getting suspicious about how to distinguish real Prince personal anecdotes from fake ones, here’s the calculus:

A real Prince personal anecdote always involves the most mundane shit imaginable. Prince needs no introduction, and he certainly doesn’t need to go out into public to bolster his hipster capital. That’s what Paisley Park is for. So, when Prince ventures into public, it’s usually because he has run out of cool things to do and he thinks doing his laundry in Burnsville is the one thing no one else in the world can make cool except for Prince. Case in point: A guy just yesterday told me about seeing Prince drive a purple limousine down Hennepin Avenue—total fabrication. But last fall a girl told me she stood in line behind Prince at a Caribou in Chanhassen, and I was immediately like, YES!

A real Prince personal anecdote does not in any way, shape, or form improve the social standing of the tale teller. People like to overextend a Prince anecdote to make themselves look good (i.e. Prince saw me at the Mall of America outside that weird crepes place and said how cute my bangs were). Don’t trust these tales. Real Prince stories usually leave everyone a little worse off. Case in point: a guy who produced my yet-undiscovered buzzband’s last record talked about his girlfriend interviewing Prince and her being reduced to tears by Prince’s misogynistic rants. Now we’re talking.

A real Prince personal anecdote usually involves mildly asinine requests. This is one criterion where the myth meets reality. Prince has odd tastes, and he sees no reason why you can’t fulfill them right now. Case in point: Prince showed up at a museum exhibit on ancient Biblical junk, where an acquaintance of mine was working, and demanded to have a personal tour of like 15 people right after closing time.

Actually, this isn’t that rock-starish. It’s more like a plucky suburban housewife on her kid’s birthday. The one golden rule to knowing real Prince personal anecdotes from fake ones is whether or not he’s doing exactly what a suburban housewife would do—except he’s wearing a pink ascot, 4-inch stiletto boots, and is surrounded by beautiful, six-foot Russian models who only speak when spoken to.

– Dunstan McGill