How to Be a Normal Person (16 page)

But as he watched the clock drag on through the afternoon, he realized he was so far out of his depth as to be rather alarming. Gus did not like alarming situations. They made him uncomfortable. And when Gus was uncomfortable, he started shutting down.

Rather than risk it, he decided to close down the Emporium early to head home and prepare for battle.

“I can do this,” he told Harry S. Truman as he put him in the carrier. “I am pretty certain I can do this.”

Harry S. Truman didn’t seem to have an opinion one way or another about Gus’s capabilities to have a social outing with an asexual hipster. Gus didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.

No. That was a lie.

He was insulted.

THERE WAS
no entry titled
How to Go Out as Friends with an Asexual Hipster so that It Leads to Something More
.

This was troubling to Gus.

He would have thought that more people would have run in to this situation.

He scrolled down the page.

If he wanted to do this right, he would have to skip a few steps.

He figured he was allowed.

He hoped there would be no ramifications for going out of order.

This was an emergency, after all.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

How to Be a Normal Person

Step 17: Acting like a Normal Person

Wow! Congratulations for making it this far! Hopefully, you haven’t skipped any steps to get to this point. The consequences could be somewhat dire if so. Reading things out of order is definitely not something normal people do. It’s a good thing you didn’t do that, though, right?

“Well fuck,” Gus said succinctly.

And yet he read on.

He would not be deterred.

Now that you know how to dress like a normal person (step 1), have a clean and healthy body like a normal person (step 2), and know how to kill and skin an elk like a normal person (step 11), it’s time to put all that information together for the next big step: acting like a normal person.

Following these next easy steps will have people around you saying
“Wow! When did you get to be so normal?”

“That’s exactly what I want,” Gus said. “Wow, Gus! When did you get to be so normal? Oh, I don’t know. I’m just doing what I
normally
do. You know. S’cool. It’s all good in the hood. Chillax, man. Too legit to quit.”

He had this.

STEP 17A:
Having a confident attitude isn’t for everyone. It can be hard to appear self-assured, especially if you have confidence issues. While it may be difficult to actually
be
confident, you can still
appear
confident. As the great humanitarian and philosopher Mahatma Gandhi once said, “Fake it until you make it.”

People tend to gravitate toward those that are confident. It also helps that confident people also tend to be in positions of power, such as the CEO of a Fortune 500 company or a twentysomething from old money who has never had to work for anything in his life but will most likely always have a full head of hair, no matter how much others wish he would go bald because there should be at least
something
faulty about him.

You may not always feel confidence, but others can smell weakness like sharks can smell blood on the water. So while you may be meek and mild, let your inner lion roar and take charge of the situation. Using power phrases like “I’ve got this
”
or “Yes, I’ve been yachting before and I had a marvelous time, thanks for asking” or “Don’t worry, we can just charge this to my black Amex card that I have which carries an egregiously high spending limit and a reasonable rate of interest” will do wonders for you. Avoid phrases like “Maybe we should…” or “If you think that’s a good idea…” or “My grandmother sets my curfew and I can’t be late or she’ll lock me in the broom closet again,” as they could potentially make you look weaker. Appearing weak is definitely not normal and you should avoid it at all costs.

AT EIGHTEEN
minutes past five in the afternoon, there was a knock on the door of the residence of Gustavo Tiberius.

Gus, dressed in the finest button-down shirt he could find in his house (plain white—Pastor Tommy had worn it when he was trying to infiltrate a Young Republicans meeting, only to have been found out, as he was neither young nor a Republican). He also found a bright pink tie to be his splash of color. He wore his slacks from work and a pair of loafers that he hoped would be considered sensible.

“I look like a gay Mormon missionary,” he lamented in the mirror. “Pardon me, have you heard the word of the Lord? It’s fabulous!” He scowled at his reflection.

He wasn’t exactly radiating confidence, so when the knock on the door came, he was sure he was as far from normal as he could possibly be.

Gus would never be confused for an optimist, but he told himself that it was possible that asexual hipsters had a weakness for pseudo-gay pseudo-Mormons, and so he was essentially like catnip. He would open the door and Casey would feel the urge to ravage him (platonically, of course, with the possibility of another hug or two that Gus would absolutely roll his eyes at but accept gladly).

“Radiate confidence,” he muttered as he walked the long walk to the front door. “Radiate confidence. Radiate confidence.”

He opened the door, radiating as much as he possibly could.

Of course, Casey just
had
to be standing on the other side, that same soft and lazy smile on his face. And he just
had
to have his hair pulled back again, a couple of strands falling around the thick rims of his glasses. And he just
had
to be wearing a checkered black-and-green sweater-vest over a white collared shirt. And if
that
wasn’t bad enough, he wore a matching green bow tie that, up until that moment, Gus hadn’t realized would be one of his greatest weaknesses. If you had told Gus even a week ago that a bow tie worn by a bearded guy who could pull off a
man
bun
, for fuck’s sake, would be the beginning of his downfall, most likely he would have glowered at you until you returned to the pit from which you had crawled with the sole purpose of saying something ridiculous.

Now, though.

Well.

Now he didn’t have many words at all aside from
adorable
and
gorgeous
and all other manner of offensive things that made Gus want to gouge his eyes out with a dull and rusted spoon.

“Hey, Gus,” Casey said, looking amused. “Great tie, man. Really fits you.”

“Yes, well,” Gus said, radiating as much confidence as he possibly could. “I try.” He decided a confident person would cross their arms over their chest and lean against the doorway. He started to do just that, but misjudged the distance he had to lean and promptly fell against the wall. “Ha, ha,” he said confidently as he pulled himself back up. “How’d that get there.”

Casey squinted at him. “The wall? I think it got there when the house was built.”

“Yeah,” Gus said because he was nothing but confident. “Cool, man. Cool.” And then, much to his horror, his hands became independent of his body and made finger guns, pointing them at Casey. His mouth, unable to resist, abdicated control to the power of the finger guns and said, “Pew, pew, pew.”

He quickly came to the conclusion that finger guns could never be brought out with confidence, no matter who the person was. They did nothing to add to the conversation (aside from making it extremely awkward) and made the user of said finger guns almost unable to resist the urge to slam the door in an asexual hipster’s face and go bury himself under the blankets on the bed and wait for the sweet relief of inevitable death.

He put his finger guns away. He should not be allowed to carry weapons of mass humiliation.

“Right on,” Casey said. “I can get behind that.” Then he made his
own
finger guns and he looked so fucking stupid that Gus’s heart tripped all over itself in his chest, what the hell.

He was confident. He had this. “Your bow tie is really rad,” he said and struggled not to wince because who the
fuck
says
rad
?

Casey perked up. “Yeah? Thanks, man. I saw it at the store and was like, yeah. I gotta have that. It’s just so… like. I don’t even know. I just had this
feeling
about it. So I bought it.”

“Yeah,” Gus said. “Totally. I can totally see that. Great story. Right on, brotha.”

Casey grinned. “You okay, man?”

“I’m epic,” Gus said. “I’m so epic, I’m like the
Lord of the Rings
musical score by Howard Shore, ya know?”

“Cool,” Casey said. “I never saw those movies.”

“They’re epic,” Gus said. “Just… boom.”

“Yeah,” Casey said. “I saw the commercials. I was, like, ten years old.”

Well, if that didn’t make Gus feel old as fuck.

“So,” Gus said, trying not to think of his pending mortality or gray hairs that would grow out his ears, “you ready to go?”

“Sure,” Casey said. “I gotta try that kale and tofu salad. You said it’s the bomb. I need to see what a bomb is to Gustavo Tiberius.”

“Yeah,” Gus said. “Totally.” Because Gus didn’t know what a bomb was to Gustavo Tiberius either. He didn’t think it would be kale and tofu salad.

“I just don’t know where it is,” he said. “Lottie didn’t know of a new vegan restaurant that had opened on Main. I didn’t see one walking over here.”

“Yeah,” Gus said, scratching the back of his neck. “About that. By Main Street, I meant Main Avenue. In Eugene. Surprise.”

“Dude,” Casey breathed. “Road trip.”

“It’s just an hour,” Gus grumbled and locked the door behind him.

STEP 17B:
Normal people are known to moderate the amount of information they give out about themselves. While it can be thrilling to meet new people and make new friends, revealing intimate information much too soon can make even the most normal of people uncomfortable. You don’t want to alienate potential new friends by saying the wrong thing, such as discussing your latest dermatological appointment to address your flaking skin or that time in college where you got so drunk you threw up on a cat, felt bad, adopted said cat, and renamed it Chunks McBurger. Maintain a careful distance until such time both parties are receptive to hearing such personal information.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “If I can’t talk about things that have happened to me that might be offensive to others, what can be discussed?” Have no fear, for now you will learn the joys of small talk.

Despite the name, there is nothing small about small talk. Small talk allows two or more parties to make the most of what might otherwise be an awkward conversation. The willingness to engage in small talk shows how normal you are and how approachable you can be. Maintain eye contact and make sure to appear interested. If you are adept at humor, consider telling a clean, nonoffensive joke. Don’t overtake a conversation and make it about yourself. Small talk is like tennis, there is a back and forth, and sometimes, the rules make absolutely no sense.

Now, let’s look at some examples of small talk and/or conversation starters:

—Hello, friend! Do you know how Moses made his tea? Hebrewed it!

—What do you think about (local sports team)?

—Were you planning on attending the office Christmas party?

—Those are some nice shoes! Tell me where you got them.

—How did you do on the history quiz?

—Do you have a map? I seem to have gotten lost in your eyes.

GUSTAVO TIBERIUS
wasn’t one who needed to fill silence. He was perfectly content with not talking and having people not talk to him. It made things easier, prevented situations from getting awkward, and allowed everyone (read: Gus) to not have to worry about saying anything embarrassing to someone they might consider being friends with (and possibly have developed a little bit of a crush on—key word
little
, the tiniest thing, so small that it might as well be negligible).

Casey Richards did not like silence apparently.

Casey, after getting over his excitement of taking a road trip with Gus, offered to drive. Gus, curious as to what kind of car a hipster would drive, agreed immediately. Gus was positive it would be an ironic Volkswagen Beetle or an electric SUV or some other such nonsense.

He was not prepared for Casey’s soccer-mom minivan.

“Seriously,” Gus said, coming to a stop in the coffee shop parking lot.

“Yep,” Casey said with no hint of shame whatsoever as he unlocked it with the key fob.

“Seriously.”

“I can fit a lot of people in it,” Casey said, shrugging slightly. “And it hotboxes like a motherfucker.”

“That should not be a qualification for buying a car,” Gus scolded.

“Or should it be the only one,” Casey said.

“No,” Gus said. “It shouldn’t.”

“Or should it,” Casey whispered, eyes wide.

Gus had lived with Pastor Tommy for over twenty-five years. He had learned early on it was pretty pointless to argue with a stoner, even if said stoner wasn’t stoned. You would never win, so it was better not to try. It just made life easier.

They climbed into the minivan and Casey looked over at him expectantly.

Gus was slightly nervous. Was he expected to start the small talk already? He tried to remember any of the conversation topics he’d read before leaving the house and, for the life of him, couldn’t think of a single one.

He was doomed.

Casey said, “So. Where to?”

“Oh,” Gus said. “Um. Eugene.”

A smile tugged at Casey’s lips. “Yeah. I got that much. Where in Eugene? I can just plug it into the GPS.”