Hey, just so you know, Andrew’s coming tonight. Before he gets here, we should probably go over a few things about him.
Andrew is a bit of an enigma. He’s not someone you can “take at face value.” He never really got over the 2000 presidential election, if you know what I mean. Now’s a good time to google that.
Honestly, to understand Andrew, you have to meet his dad. But to understand his dad, you have to meet Andrew’s uncle. Not his dad’s brother—his mom’s brother. Andrew’s dad hates that guy. That hatred informs his worldview.
To understand Andrew, you have to have known him at Brown. If you didn’t get into Brown, it might suffice to have gone to a school in a bordering state. But not in Connecticut. And definitely not MIT. Andrew is anti-everyone in STEM. I recently switched career paths from my gig at SpaceX when he seemed provoked by my employment there—I’ve always wanted to try and hack it as a busker anyway.
To get along with Andrew, you have to know the barista at his local coffee shop. But not better than he does. He knows them best.
In order to relate to Andrew, you must truly understand what it means to be lonely. Not because he’s lonely, but because he’s writing an epic poem on loneliness—“Songs of Innocence and of Andrew”—and he needs some source material. He’s never felt lonely in his life. He’s actually quite popular and beloved among those in his circle.
He texted he’s about to head over and asked if any of his fellas were here. I’ll let him know it’s just us so far.
It would help your chances of bonding with Andrew if you bought a betta fish. But not a blue one. Write that down and underline it. I’ll probably just hide my blue betta in the bathroom before Andrew arrives.
To really crack the tough nut that is Andrew, you have to watch all the Star Wars movies. All the spin-offs, too. But don’t bring up Baby Yoda, or Andrew will see red.
Perhaps the best way to understand where Andrew’s coming from is to spend a year living on the road, sleeping out of a van with nothing but the next meal and the next city on your mind. Andrew’s never done that, but he’d really respond to your commitment to an alternative lifestyle. He considers himself someone who goes against the grain by taking outside food into restaurants.
Don’t do that thing with your hands. He’ll hate that.
To have a fighting chance of solving the riddle that is Andrew, drop everything you’re doing and listen to the entire back catalog of the Huberman Lab podcast. Twice. Andrew’s a total mind and body wellness buff. He gets ten hours of sleep per night and drinks two gallons of water per day. He can tell if you’re dehydrated or sleep-deprived, and you’ll lose any footing you had with him entirely. And if you haven’t mastered your breathing, he’ll view it as a character flaw. The 4-7-8 technique. Make that your religion.
God, Andrew’s the best. Just don’t look him in the eye for an extended period of time. It will either make him super-shy or hyper-aggressive. Fuck, I love that guy.
You’ll also have to become fluent in Swedish if you hope to win Andrew’s affection. He’s terrible at Swedish in a way only a native speaker would understand. He’s never been to Sweden, but he’s a total Skarsgård-head. He has a signed photo of Gustaf in his wallet. If he hears you speaking Swedish, he’ll automatically develop a fondness for you by auditory association. Here, you can borrow my Swedish Rosetta Stone DVD. I learned how to say, “Jag har ingen blå fisk, Andrew,” in just two hours.
He just texted me that he’s four minutes away. Listen, there are three things that are crucial in your journey to the center of Andrew: kombucha, Al Gore, and Orangetheory.
And if you’ve ever owned a Marcel Breuer Cane Cesca Chair, there’s just no way you’re going to get Andrew. Above all else, Andrew loathes the Bauhaus school of design. He prefers postmodern contemporary, plus anything he can find at West Elm. So if you’ve developed an interest in German modernism, don’t bother trying to figure him out, because you won’t. Honestly, if you’ve even searched “mid-century modern” on Facebook Marketplace, you should probably hide in the bathroom with my betta fish. I’m sorry, I just can’t risk my standing with Andrew.
Andrew keeps his circle tight. That’s why it takes him three weeks to text me back and a beat too long to remember my name every time I see him.
Andrew is my best friend. If you don’t get him, you’ll never get me. Oh, he just texted me again—he’s not going to make it after all. Classic Andrew!