How to Be a Normal Person

by TJ Klune

  “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.”

  “Right,” Gus said. “Just plug it into the old GPS. Exactly.”

  Casey waited.

  Gus said, “Oh. You need the address. To use the GPS. Um. I have that.”

  “Good,” Casey said. “We might need it.”

  “Ha-ha,” Gus said, trying to radiate confidence. “Good one. Do you know how Moses made his tea? Hebrewed it!”

  Casey burst out laughing. “What the fuck?”

  Gus nodded, his armpits sweating. “I know, right? Wordplay. Gets me every time.” He felt relief that his first attempt at humor tonight had not fallen flat. The website had told him he had to be careful with humor, because if it failed, it could lead to the worst part of small talk: Awkward Silences.

  Gus felt more confident. He fumbled with his phone and pulled up the last text from the We Three Queens. He read off the address to Casey, who plugged it into his phone. The GPS acknowledged the address and announced it would take one hour and thirteen minutes to arrive at the destination. Gus thought that sounded like the longest stretch of time known to mankind. He felt less confident.

  Then Casey sang the song of his people, four words that struck fear in Gustavo’s heart.

  “Okay,” Casey said. “It’s selfie time.”

  Gus said, “How did you do on the history quiz?”

  Casey said, “What.”

  Gus said, “Sorry, I thought you were someone else,” and prayed it was enough to make Casey forget about the selfie.

  However, Casey was the first hipster that Gus had had prolonged exposure to, and he was learning that they did not give up lightly.

  “You’re funny,” Casey said. “Bring it in, Gustavo. I am going to press my face against your face.”

  And Gus said, “Meep,” but could not stop Casey from pulling him over and pressing up against each other until they were cheek to cheek. Casey’s beard was as soft as Gus thought it would be, though he adamantly refused to admit he had spent any time at all thinking about it. He smelled good, that hint of pot and mint and something that was just undeniably Casey.

  “Smile, Gustavo,” Casey said, bringing his phone up in front of them.

  Gus sort of smiled.

  “Almost,” Casey said. “You’re almost there.”

  Gus bared his teeth a little bit.

  “Too far,” Casey said. “Bring it back just a little.”

  Gus covered his teeth.

  “Hey, Gus,” Casey said, as if they weren’t pressed together in a minivan trying to take a selfie. “Knock knock.”

  “What?”

  “Knock knock.”

  And because he was ready to not be so up in Casey’s vicinity anymore before he did something awkward like kiss his cheek, he said, “Who’s there?”

  “A shark.”

  “A shark who?”

  “A shark who just ate your whole family and is now going to eat you.”

  Gus couldn’t stop the smile even if he tried because that was so stupid.

  “Got it,” Casey said, sounding smug. He squeezed Gus’s neck briefly before pulling away.

  “You tricked me,” Gus said. “That was a terrible joke and you’re a terrible person.”

  “I feel real bad about it,” he said, looking down at his phone. “Hey, followers. I got him to smile. Isn’t it awesome? Hashtag the evolution of Grumpy Gus will be televised. Hashtag mountain town adventures. Hashtag men in ties. Hashtag first hangout jitters. Hash tag four twenty is a frame of mind. And posted.”

  Gus gaped at him.

  “What?” Casey asked as he started the minivan.

  “Um,” Gus said. He’d misheard, obviously. He hadn’t said first hangout jitters, because that sounded almost like it was a date. He’d probably said burst bangout quitters, which was an Instagram thing like LOL. Yes. That was exactly it. Time to move on. “So. Casey. Please. Tell me more about yourself.”

  He told h
imself that was a good start.

  “What do you want to know?” Casey asked.

  Motherfucker. That wasn’t how small talk worked. Gus reminded himself that he needed to keep it distant. Play it cool. He shrugged. “Whatever’s clever, y’all,” and wondered why he was even allowed out in public.

  Casey snorted. “How about this. I’ll ask you a question and then you can ask me a question and we can go back and forth.” He pulled out of the parking lot and onto Main Street, heading toward Interstate 5. “You have to answer honestly. If you don’t want to answer, just say so and we can think of a different question. Remember: share space.”

  That sounded doable. And dangerous. Gus said, “Ain’t no thang.” He coughed. “I mean, yeah. Sure. Sounds good.”

  “Okay. You want me to go first?”

  Gus thought that sounded awful, but he hadn’t thought of a question yet. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Have you ever smoked weed?” No hesitation, like he’d been waiting to ask that question. Gus wondered how many more questions he had saved up.

  “Uh,” Gus said. “Yeah. I have.”

  “With who?”

  “I think it’s my turn to ask a question,” Gus said.

  Casey narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. I’m onto you, man. Go ahead.”

  Small talk. Small talk. He could do normal small talk. “What are your hopes and dreams for the future?” And… fuck his life.

  “Whoa,” Casey said. “That’s deep.”

  Gus wished he had a rewind button. Or an eject button.

  “I suppose… I dunno, man. I guess I just want what everyone else wants. I want to be happy. I want to do something that matters. I want to make others happy. I want to roll the world’s fattest joint and smoke it for weeks. I want to hike the Appalachian Trail. I want to adopt a bird and name it Falcor. You know, the usual.”

  “Nothing about that is usual,” Gus said. “Falcor? What the hell.”

  “Yeah,” Casey said. “But doesn’t it sound awesome? My turn. Who did you smoke weed with?”

  And Gus should have known Casey wouldn’t drop it. He wondered if he should pass this question off. He opened his mouth to do just that when he said, “Pastor Tommy. He… uh. My dad. He loved smoking. Had done so for years. At first it was just pleasure. Because he wanted to. And then it was to help with the pain.”

  “He sounded like a good dude,” Casey said quietly.

  “Yeah,” Gus said, trying to keep his voice level. “The best, really.”

  “You’re lucky to have had that, you know?”

  “I know,” Gus said. Then, “Didn’t you?”

  Casey shrugged, not taking his eyes off the road. “For a while,” he said. “Grew up in Yakima. Parents didn’t like that I slept around. Didn’t like that I slept with men. Didn’t like that I really didn’t want to sleep with anyone. Didn’t like that I smoked weed. Didn’t like that I found success without going to college. Didn’t like that I moved to LA. It was a shit show, man. For a little while. I got out to clear my head. Haven’t really been back since.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Go back? Sure. One day. Not now. I like what I have now. My turn. Favorite movie of all time?”

  “Creature from the Black Lagoon,” Gus said. “Hands down.”

  “No shit? I can respect that. I saw that when I was a kid. Righteous.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Oh man,” Casey said. “You’re going to bring out the Eyebrows of Judgment.”

  “What?” Gus asked, barely stopping himself from reaching up and covering his eyebrows. “I don’t have that.”

  “Yeah you do. They’re gnarly.”

  “Is it Michael Bay?” Gus demanded. “Is your favorite movie one by Michael Bay? If it is, you need to pull over and let me out now because that’s awful and you should be ashamed of yourself and I can’t be seen in public with you.”

  “It’s not Michael Bay,” Casey said, rolling his eyes. “But you have to admit, The Rock was pretty good.”

  “I don’t have to admit anything,” Gus hissed. “And that movie was passable at best, the only reason being Sean Connery stooping himself to the lowest levels in order to pick up a paycheck.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay, you ready?”

  “Go,” Gus said. “And remember, I own a video store, so my opinion matters more.”

  “Right. It’s from the last decade. Hmm. Maybe eleven years ago.”

  “Okay. But if you say any movie with Jennifer Lopez, you’re fired from life.”

  “Nah,” Casey said. “Ensemble cast. Billy Bob Thornton and—”

  “Love Actually,” Gus said immediately. Then, “Really? Really, Casey?”

  “Hey! I can’t help it if I love love.”

  “Gross,” Gus muttered. “That was the worst sentence ever. I’m embarrassed for you.”

  “There’s the Eyebrows of Judgment. I knew they’d make an appearance.”

  “Well, yeah. I can’t not judge.”

  “I see right through you, Gustavo Tiberius,” Casey said. “Don’t think I don’t. You front with this cool and stony exterior, but deep inside, you’re nothing but a big old teddy bear with a heart filled with sunshine he wants to release up on the world. Remember, I know your secret. You’re a Share Bear.”

  Gus glared at him. “Nothing you just said should be used to describe anyone ever,” but he wondered just how much Casey could see him. Or, rather, how much he wanted to show to Casey. Not in a Share Bear way, of course, because what the fuck. But other ways?

  Maybe. Maybe a lot.

  And god, if that didn’t scare the shit out of him.

  STEP 17C: Socializing in public settings can be difficult for those that aren’t prepared. And if you’re not prepared, chances are you will not be acting normal.

  The first thing to know is that it’s impossible to please everyone, so you shouldn’t even begin to try. Opinions are like sphincters in that most people have them, just some are louder than others and can be terribly messy if not handled correctly. The less you worry about other people’s opinions of you, the better you’ll be. Normal people tend to not spend time worrying about what others think. However, chances are you’re here because of opinions of others, and that’s okay too. It may seem confusing and that it doesn’t make sense, but it will all even out in the end. Try not to worry so much about being normal. That being said, continue reading on to learn how to be more normal!

  Secondly, be mindful that any interests and/or hobbies you may have may not be shared by everyone. In fact, something you do for fun may be considered “extreme” or “off-putting” by others. Make sure you are aware of the people you are surrounded by and get a feel for the room before you make any announcements that you are a budding taxidermist and you just stuffed an armadillo that you found on the side of the road or that you are a Satanist and you are looking for your first sacrifice to take place during the new moon when the world is at its darkest. People may not share your interests and it isn’t polite or normal to force them on anyone.

  And this brings about the third point: making sure to have good control on your emotions. There might be people out there who are not normal and who will go against everything you’ve learned so far. It can be difficult to find an appropriate emotional response when someone comes up to you and says they support something you are so adamantly opposed to, like free-range beef or wearing rubber bracelets for every single charity known to mankind. Learning to suppress your emotions is certainly normal and will create a positive and safe environment.

  For example, Billy is invited to a dinner party where he is unfamiliar with most of the other guests. While waiting for hors d’oeuvres, an acquaintance of Billy’s, a woman named Rhonda, approaches Billy and requests angry sex because she hasn’t forgiven him for some slight from years ago that Billy can’t even be sure actually occurred. Billy’s opinion is that Rhonda is crazy, but he keeps it to himself, reins in his own anger, declines her demand of rage sex, and instea
d suggests they play a round of canasta and possibly go out for chocolate malts the next day.

  Guess what?

  Twist ending.

  Billy marries Rhonda one year later.

  DURING THE first “hangout” (and honestly, Gus was probably going to obsess about that word for the rest of time), he learned the following things about Casey and himself:

  Casey could fold his tongue, and he had a freckle on his forehead that was almost shaped like a heart.

  Casey started writing his postapocalyptic werewolf/vampire books on a dare and four years later, he had an agent, books on the New York Times Bestseller list, and a deadline he was probably going to miss for the last book because “I can’t quite figure out how to resolve the bisexual love triangle and I’m thinking of just making it a threesome, but my agent said my average reader is a sixteen-year-old girl and I don’t know if I have it in me to corrupt them like that.”

  Casey liked watching Gus when he talked, which made for a scary driving experience.

  Gus liked it when Casey watched him, which made for a scary life experience.

  Casey had a large network of friends back in LA that absolutely did not understand why he moved to Abby, Oregon, a place none of them had ever heard of. They’d tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t be deterred because “LA’s awesome, man, except when all it does is drown you.”

  Casey smoked weed almost daily, but he didn’t today because he wanted to make sure that Gus didn’t think Casey was under the influence at any point during their first hangout because “I don’t want you to overthink anything,” which caused Gus to start overthinking everything.

  Gus told him about how he’d met the We Three Queens, about making fun of Lottie for her alliterative shop name, about the inspirational message of the day (Every day is a first chance at something new) and how he believed that either the calendar was sentient, or that the We Three Queens broke into his house every day and changed the message in order to fuck with him because they were getting to be way too on-point to be coincidence.

  “Oh?” Casey said. “So today is your chance at something new?”