This Is a Book (32 page)

He shoved me. I shoved him back. The bar became silent.

“You got a problem?” he said, almost bursting out of his T-shirt.

“Do you want to step outside?” I replied.

“Let’s go!” he said. He had a murderous look in his eye and a murderous earring in his ear, too.

A minute later we were outside. My veins were coursing with adrenaline. The crowd spilled out behind us, like some sort of jelly that likes to watch fights.

He held up his fists. “All right, you little—”

“Do you want to step more outside?” I asked. I pointed to the awning just above us. “We’re not fully outside yet… because of the awning.”

He looked up at the awning. “Um… Okay.”

We moved over a little more, out from under the awning.

“Come on. Bring it on, little man,” he said as he took a step towards me.

“Do you want to step over there?” I said.

He paused, and said, “We’re outside now. What’s the problem?”

“Oh, what are you, scared?” I replied.

“No. I’m not scared. Let’s go over there.”

We walked over there. The crowd followed.

“Now get ready to die,” he said, stretching his enormous torso like a gorilla.

“No, I meant do you want to step over
there
?” I explained. I pointed. He looked.

“Just a little farther,” I continued, still sounding pretty threatening. I knew this tactic wouldn’t work for much longer, but by now we were pretty close to my car.

“All right. But that’s it,” he warned.

“Fine,” I said.

We moved again. The crowd was ready for the fight. He looked at me. I looked at him and said, “What’s that over there?” Then I ran for my car.

I can’t tell you how much I wish I had left my car unlocked that night.

From what people tell me, I did manage to get to the car door for just a moment.

Camping with the family was a lot of fun, especially when we did it on purpose.

She was sexy. She had long hair and long legs. She had long arms, too. Her legs and hair were the parts that I found most attractive. Now that I think about it, her arms were really, really long. I don’t remember her name, because everyone called her by her nickname, Ape Arms.

You never forget your first kiss. And that’s what makes it so hard to forgive my uncle.

The annual Word Awards were held last night at Vernacular Pavilion. Here are some of the ceremony’s highlights.

The word
allege
was honored for being the all-time most overused word in television news. The winner allegedly beat the second-place word,
suspect
, by a wide margin.
Allege
denied allegations that it won only because reporters are allegedly too stupid to think of other words to use.
Allege
thanked all the reporters for their “insane repetition” of it, and confirmed allegations that it will continue to be overused by people who work in the news media, many of whom allegedly don’t even know what
allege
means.

Whom
received a Lifetime Achievement Award for its special service to pompous assholes.
Whom
extended a special thanks to people who “correct others who mistakenly use ‘who,’ ” saying, “I dedicate this award to them, without whom this would have not been possible.”

Sesquipedalian
shared the award for Most Autological Word with
autological
. The winners beat out fellow nominees,
letters
and
nominee
for the prize.
Winner
was, once again, barred from competition for being too presumptuous.
Presumptuous
was not available for comment but managed to irritate people nonetheless.

The Ensemble Award for the Least Frequently Used Combination of Words went to
I was wrong
, which was presented by last year’s winner
I have a drinking problem
.

The word
word
was honored for officially regaining its intended meaning after spending more than two decades in hip-hop where it has meant “yes, that’s correct.”
Word
began its embarrassing stint there in the late twentieth century when young rappers paired it with
up
(e.g., “Are you going to come correct?”
“Word up.”
) and soon thereafter started to appear without
up
.
Up
, meanwhile, had been recruited with
in
by the very same community, who used it to say things like “I was all
up in
there” for reasons that are still unclear.
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The Award for the Word Used Most Frequently When It Is Not Actually Justified went to
awesome
, which narrowly beat out
genius
. Many were surprised that
literally
was not nominated, literally.

The Parlance Memorial Award, given to the word that is most frequently whispered, went to
cancer
again this year, continuing its remarkable streak.

Your
and
you’re
performed a short comedy routine about just how stupid people on social networking sites are.
Yore
, who is famously reclusive, delighted the assembled crowd with a surprise cameo during the routine.

The night’s best-dressed word was
slanted
, who fittingly arrived on the red carpet in italics.

Albeit
won the Award for the Word Least Likely to Appear in a Tattoo.

The Award for Best Comedy Word went to
cahoots
, beating out crowd favorite
fart
and longtime champion
titmouse
.

The ceremony was briefly interrupted by a loud group of
nucular
protesters, who demanded that
nucular
be recognized as a word. Spotted among the protesters were
idiot
and
supposebly
(who, like
nucular
, is not a word but is nonetheless uttered every day by many, many people in America).

The Vernacular Lifetime Achievement Award went to
invent
for coming up with itself.

Finally, the coveted Onomatopoeia Prize went to
shphlaah
for the sound of a fat man accidentally sitting on a calzone.

I am bad at goodbyes. It’s a problem I’ve had for as long as I can remember.

My parents once told me that even before I could talk I had trouble with goodbyes. As a baby, when someone said goodbye to me, I would stare back at them and loudly fill my diaper as I crawled onto their lap.

When I was a toddler my parents began to put me in the basement whenever it came time to say goodbye. If they didn’t, when somebody said goodbye I would panic, do a little dance, and then run full-speed into the wall. I don’t remember doing this. I was too young. But the permanent marks on the wall (and on my head) are pretty good evidence that this happened.

My mother and father tried to explain away my goodbye difficulties as a phase, but things only got worse when I entered elementary school. I became even more agitated during goodbyes, often yelling directly into people’s faces and then breaking down in tears.

By the time I got to high school, I had developed a full-blown problem. If someone even uttered the word “goodbye” I would tackle them. I earned a reputation for being not only clingy but also “holdy” (because once I had the person on the ground I would hold them as hard as I could).

When I left for college I didn’t know how to say godbye to my family, so I just snuck out of the house the night before while everyone was sleeping. I think my parents understood that I needed to do that, even if they were a little hurt by it. Unfortunately, I somehow managed to ruin that goodbye after I ran into our dog, Buster, on my way out of the house. Saying goodbye to Buster proved to be so difficult that I ended up throwing him directly at my parents, who were sleeping.

It’s strange that I am so bad at goodbyes. I mean, no one else in my family has a problem with them. I have an aunt who has trouble with “see you soons,” but that’s about it. What’s even stranger is that I’ve always been very good at hellos.

If I’m meeting someone for the first time I can simply say “Hello.” No problem. And I can also change it up pretty easily if the situation calls for it. For example, if I’m meeting an attractive woman for the first time I’ll say, “Helll… llloo” in a very seductive way as I look her body up and down and slowly walk around her. Incidentally, in my experience it’s amazing how many women are bad at hellos, often turning a hello immediately into a goodbye right after a man has skillfully greeted and circled them. But I guess that’s no surprise when you consider how stuck-up a lot of women are.

Anyway, I thought that waving might be a good way to get better at goodbyes, so I focused on that for a while. But even waving presented challenges. Sure I can easily wave hello (I mean who can’t?) but when I try to wave later on in the conversation, as a goodbye, I get tripped up and just end up saying “hello” again.

Sometimes, to avoid the inevitable awkwardness, instead of saying goodbye I’ll just keep the conversation going. Then I don’t have to deal with the goodbye at all. That’s not always the best tactic, though. I once ended up getting married because of it. When the relationship finally did end, the best I could do was “toodles.” Man, that definitely did not help things when our divorce went to trial.

I saw a therapist for a while. Whenever I went to see him we would stand in his office and say goodbye to each other for the
entire session, which inevitably put a lot of pressure on the end of every session. It often made leaving his office very confusing. Part of the problem, he told me, is that I suffer from what is called “separation anxiety” coupled with a more serious condition called “separation aggression.”