1. Nod your head—keep your eyes down and just nod your head. How long could it be?

2. Oh god; it has three parts. It’s a Dubstep-opera.

3. Ten minutes—you haven’t meditated yet today. Ten minutes to meditate, that’s not terrible. Just keep your eyes open, practice circular breathing and remain still.

4. If you must move, you are allowed to sway. No fist-pumping; save that for an emergency (if you think you may explode with laughter, for example).

5. Make comparisons to present day electronic artists. Ex: “This is such sophisticated kid-dubstep, kind of like Diplo meets Benga.” Pause, wrinkle your brow. Say something like, “This is super layered shit."

6. Don’t smile. Just nod your head, put hand to knee, and mirror a peripatetic drummer. Keep your eyes closed. If you make eye contact, he may look earnestly into your eyes whilst biting his lip, searching deep into the tiny crevices of your being, where your true, still unguarded soul may lie, dormant, dangerous. Hold it in.

7. He’s going to ask you to wait for the drop. “It’s coming bro, and it’s huge.” Wait longer than you or anyone on earth could have anticipated. You will be disappointed. Say “wow.”

8. You’re a good friend; a steely-eyed, supportive friend. Think of your grandparents having sex.

9. C’mon, don’t act proud; you’ve used that one before.

10. You don’t care for dubstep anyway, so whether the drop is a crescendo of dogs barking and cats meowing, you’d hate it.

11. Remind yourself of steps 8 and 10—you are a good friend, you don’t like dubstep anyway.

12. Oh god; your right eye is twitching. Are you having a seizure? It’s likely the chorus, where the kids in their prepubescent voices sweetly sing in fire-alarm pitches as the dogs bark, the cats meow, and the beat drops. Let the beat drop. Wait for it. You can do it.