“Okay. Wow. Well, look at that! I was able to confirm that you are qualified for Pacific Northwest Cable’s Super Xtreme Broadband Internet Service with MegaCheck Security. That’s great news! Now, Mr. Tiberius, we are able to offer you Pacific Northwest Cable’s Super Xtreme Broadband Internet Service with MegaCheck Security at a great introductory price of $39.99 per month for the first six months of a two-year contract. Doesn’t that sound great?”
“What happens the remaining eighteen months?”
“After your introductory price of just $39.99 per month as a welcome to the Pacific Northwest Cable’s Super Xtreme Broadband Internet Service with MegaCheck Security family, your monthly price will have a small increase to reflect the level of entertainment and enjoyment provided.”
“And how much is my eighteen months of contracted entertainment and enjoyment going to cost per month, Mitzi?”
“$79.99.”
“Holy balls. Are you serious?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In what world is that a small increase? The increase is more than the introductory price! I don’t even—what the hell was that beeping noise?”
“Sir, I believe that came from your end.”
“I don’t….”
“Sir, are you on a cell phone?”
“Yes.”
“Is it possible you have another call coming in or received a message?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know how to work this damn thing.”
“What kind of smartphone do you have?”
“I have a flip phone from 2004.”
“That… explains so much.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing, sir. Nothing. Look at your screen on the phone. Do you see a little envelope icon?”
“Yes.”
“You got a text.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you could get texts when you were on the phone. That’s rude. What if the conversation I was having was important? I wouldn’t want to be interrupted! How do I access it now?”
“Sir, if we could just—”
“Never mind, I figured it out. I put you on speaker and I can hit the message button. Oh god. He texted me again. What the hell. I don’t have any idea what’s going on. Mitzi. Mitzi! Can you hear me!”
“Yes, Mr. Tiberius.”
“You sound like a young person. You are probably all hip to the lingo the kids use these days.”
“You and I are the same age, Mr. Tiberius.”
“Do you take pictures of your food and post them online?”
“Uh, sometimes?”
“Then you’ll do just fine. What does lawl mean?”
“Lawl?”
“Right? I don’t even known what he’s doing. It says ‘You are funny,’ but it’s spelled with less letters than it should be. And then it says lawl. L-O-L.”
“Oh. That’s an acronym. For laughing out loud.”
“An acronym? Why don’t you just type it out, for heaven’s sakes?”
“It’s… shorthand, I guess?”
“And what does it mean when he finishes almost every text with a double x?”
“Oh boy.”
“What? Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it? Goddamn asexual hipsters!”
“No. No, it’s not bad. It’s….”
“Mitzi!”
“It’s more shorthand, I guess. It means kiss.”
“What.”
“Kiss? Like… kiss.”
“….”
“Mr. Tiberius.”
“Mitzi, I really need that Internet now.”
“So you agree to the contract? There will be additional equipment charges and service fees, but we can bundle that into your cable bill and—”
“It’s fine. All of that is fine. Charge me. Contract me. Bundle me. The sooner the better. In fact, today would be good. Let’s do this now. Send someone out now so I can figure this out.”
“I don’t think I can get someone out there today, Mr. Tiberius. But I do have an appointment tomorrow I can set you up with. A Pacific Northwest Cable technician will come to your residence and install the necessary hardware and software to get you up and on the World Wide Web.”
“Tomorrow. You sure you have absolutely nothing available today? Because I really, really need to research things.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tiberius. I don’t have anything until tomorrow.”
“Gods. Fine. Tomorrow. Morning would be best.”
“Actually, Mr. Tiberius, we have a window of time that we assign the technician to you as he does have other jobs.”
“I own a business, Mitzi. Where people rent movies. Mitzi. Who is going to rent them their movies if I can’t be at the store?”
“I… didn’t know people still rented movies at stores, to be honest.”
“What? How could you—that’s beside the point. I have a business to run.”
“I can maybe get someone out there this weekend, if that would help?”
“Weekend? Oh my god, it’s only Tuesday! Who knows what other alarming texts he’ll send me! Maybe I can have the shop open a half day, then. Okay. Is the technician coming tomorrow morning or afternoon?”
“Actually, the window available for the technician to arrive is from 7:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.”
“….”
“Mr. Tiberius?”
“….”
“Mr. Tiberius, are you still there?”
“How is that a
window
? That’s an entire day! That’s not a window. That’s like a garage door! A garage door of time!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh my god.”
“Mr. Tiberius—”
“Oh my god.”
“Sir? Are you okay? You sound like you’re hyperventilating.”
“I am not hyperventilating. I’m breathing heavily and regretting all my life’s choices.”
“Oh. Isn’t that kind of the same thing?”
“Mitzi! Set up the technician!”
“Done and done. He’ll be out between seven—”
“Yes, yes. I got it. He’ll be out tomorrow in a span of ten hours, you don’t know when, I got it.”
“Mr. Tiberius, if I may.”
“Why not.”
“Do you… even have a computer?”
“Oh shit.”
“Mr. Tiberius, I can—”
“No, wait! Pastor Tommy bought a laptop right before he died, because he wanted to keep track on a spreadsheet all the different types of pot he consumed. I know his password and everything.”
“That’s… good. Did you have any questions, sir?”
“No. Yes! Hypothetically. How does one… respond to a kiss double x text to an asexual hipster that doesn’t say you’re interested but it doesn’t say you’re not
not
interested either?”
“Um. I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer that.”
“Mitzi! If this were an asexual hipster with a beard who gets stoned that wrote you a text kiss and you didn’t want to show too much interest until you could research being normal, how would you respond?”
“Um. With… a winkie face?”
“A winkie face.”
“I think so?”
“Mitzi. What the hell.”
“I don’t know!”
“Winkie face. That’s what you come up with.”
“I’m not very well versed in flirting with asexual hipsters. My husband is an accountant.”
“Oh. Is there someone there that is?”
“I don’t… know.”
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.”
“That’s good, Mr. Tiberius. Is there anything else I can—”
“Hypothetically, how does one send a winkie face?”
“Um. Semicolon. Dash. Right parenthesis.”
“Right. I knew that. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“This is all hypothetical.”
“Of course it is.”
“I’m going to hang up now.”
“Okay. I hope you have a Pacific Northwest Cabletastic day!”
“Oh my god. What are you even
talking
about? What the—”
*Customer disconnected phone call*
RECORDING OF
a customer call taken by Pacific Northwest Cable service representative Mytzy Holland on 5/21/14 at 5:01 P.M. THIS RECORDING IS USED FOR INTERNAL REVIEW ONLY. DO NOT RELEASE RECORDINGS TO THE PUBLIC.
“Thank you for calling Pacific Northwest Cable, this is Mytzy and this call may be recorded for quality assurance. How may I provide you with excellent service today?”
“Oh thank god, it’s you! Listen. It is now after five and your technician still isn’t here. I have waited all day, and you told me he would be here before five and now it’s after five and he’s still not here and I’ve gotten more texts!”
“I am so sorry to hear that, sir. To whom am I speaking to?”
“It’s me. Gus. We spoke yesterday. You sold me the Internet? You made me do a winkie face back to the asexual hipster. Which, by the way, was absolutely not the best idea you’ve ever had because now he won’t stop texting me. He said he was worried when I didn’t show up for coffee again this morning. I had to lie and say I was still sick because it was easier than saying I wasn’t sure what to do with him as I hadn’t had a chance to research how to be normal as the technician didn’t bring me my Internet yet. He asked me if this was still me freaking out and I said no it wasn’t because it’s not. I am not freaking out. I just need the Internet.”
“Sir, you may have been speaking with a different representative. There are two of us with the same name here. I think you probably spoke with Mitzi two
i
’s. I’m Mytzy with two
y
’s.”
“What.”
“You spoke with two-
i
Mitzi. I am two-
y
Mytzy. Isn’t that just a hoot?”
“A
hoot
? No, that’s not a
hoot
! Why would your parents
do
that to you? I just don’t—oh. Wait. Someone is knocking on the door.”
*Customer disconnected phone call*
NOTE FROM
Pacific Northwest Cable Technician C. Rodriguez
May 21st, 2014 18:12
Employee ID# 126341
Broadband Installation Order # BOATK08122011
Customer Gustavo Tiberius
Technician Note: I apologized for being a few minutes behind schedule as the customer seemed a bit on edge. The installation went relatively smoothly. I explained each step I was taking to ensure he had a Cabletastic experience. He said, and I quote, “Never say that to me again, what the hell.”
After a successful installation, Mr. Tiberius asked me how, hypothetically, one would use the Internet to research “asexual hipsters that cause confusing feelings.” I advised Mr. Tiberius that I wasn’t trained to answer something so specific. Mr. Tiberius then inquired as to what exactly I was trained to do. I advised the customer that I was trained to install his broadband and make sure his Internet connection was up and running. Mr. Tiberius asked if I had an Instagram account. I advised the customer I did. Mr. Tiberius asked if I liked the
Transformer
movies. I advised I enjoyed them. Mr. Tiberius invited me to leave his premises and indicated that I should never return because “Michael Bay is the devil, are you insane, get out, you cretin.”
As a side note, I am requesting an immediate vacation for the next three days. I’m not paid enough for this.
AT SIX
fifteen in the afternoon on May 21, 2014, Gustavo Tiberius connected to the Internet in his home on his own for the first time.
Two minutes and fourteen seconds later, he’d somehow gotten trapped in a black hole on a site called Tumblr that led to porn of a most enthusiastic variety, if the faces of the six people on the screen had any measure. Gus may have shrieked slightly when one of the pornographic actors, a large Caucasian male with exuberant-looking nipples, glared at one of the females, gave a cocky smirk, and said, “I’m gonna get yo mouth
pregnant
.”
Gus slammed the computer shut just as the large pornographic actor began to do just that. For the next four minutes and seventeen seconds, he stood in his kitchen, rocking back and forth, moaning, “But you
can’t
get her mouth pregnant, you just
can’t
.”
Harry S. Truman was not impressed with Gus and his theatrics and huffed once or twice before curling back into a ball in his cage, closing his eyes and ignoring his owner’s meltdown.
Eventually, Gus went back to the computer, typed in Pastor Tommy’s password (
CANNIBUS4CANNIGUS
). He quickly clicked off the devil site known as Tumblr, vowing never to go there again.
He didn’t know where to start.
With encyclopedias, it was easy. You knew the topic you wanted, you picked the volume that contained information on the topic, you researched the topic, and then you put the volume back.
The Internet was vast and had men with disproportionately large testicles.
Gus wasn’t stupid. He didn’t have a simple mind. He couldn’t even necessarily be called naïve. If he was sheltered, it was because of his own doing. Pastor Tommy was all for anything that Gus wanted to do, and Gus loved him for it. Gus was not simple, but he liked it when things were. He liked routine. He liked order. He liked things in their places so he could find them when he needed them.
Maybe it was a little lonely. But it worked for him.
Because he was abnormal and weird and strange.
And it wasn’t normal.
And he needed to be normal.
So, for the first time in his life, Gus asked the Internet for help.
In the search bar on the top right of the screen, he typed six words.
How to be a normal person
He hit Enter.
There were over a billion hits.
Gus almost died.
A
billion
.
He looked at the first one.
It wasn’t Tumblr, so he figured that was a start. He didn’t want to see what it looked like after the large pornographic man tried to get the woman’s mouth pregnant.
And if it was the first out of the
billion
, then it had to be the best, right?
That’s what he told himself. It was logical, and Gus was nothing if not logical.
He clicked on the first link.
Are you tired of being unique? It can be
exhausting
standing out in the crowd. You may have to see and do things that you just don’t have the time or energy for. Oftentimes, even if you do nothing at all, you are still considered an “individual” merely by existing. And it’s okay to not want this. It’s okay to want to be like other people.
If someone has ever called you strange or weird or, worse, abnormal, it’s okay! You just need help stifling your more quirky qualities. If you follow these step-by-step instructions, you’ll fit in just like everyone else in no time. Are you ready to be normal?