There will always be gift guides. When the world is ending, when the coasts dry up, when racists empower fascist governments, when an increasingly chic distrust of vaccines enable super flu epidemics, when everyone is killed in a mass shooting, when artificial intelligence knows us better than we know ourselves, when there will be no gifts to give, when the memories of the past haunt us on our deathbed—like the time I blamed my acne medication on my loss of appetite while on a date with a girl in high school—there will still be gift guides.
So, here’s a gift guide for people who are prone to be anxious. I mean, not that I would know anything about that.
Gift option #1: A pass to stay home
This is like a “Get Out of Jail Free” card, but for social situations. Doesn’t matter how important the event is, this baby would provide an out for any concert, art opening, birthday party, or even wedding with no questions asked. I’m not trying to be a bad friend—it’s just that sometimes social situations can be too overwhelming what with all the talking, mingling, elbow-rubbing and whatnot. In a perfect world, this would also restrict anyone at the event from posting about it on social media, because even though I’ve chosen to opt out, it still gives me anxiety to know people are having fun without me. In an even more perfect world, there would be no event at all and everyone would stay home, waiting for the moment when I’m ready to be social again.
Gift option #2: Permission to carry out a routine
Hitting all the checkmarks in my routine produces a bigger dopamine release than drugs (but I would not say no to drugs). Ideally, this gift would look like a week of writing x number of words, exercising x number of days, along with wine on Wednesday night, whiskey on Thursday, and getting a nap in at exactly 3 p.m. on Saturday. There would be no surprises, and definitely no spontaneity. This probably sounds boring to a lot of people who like to seize the day or whatever, but my brain is horny for predictability.
Gift option #3: No loud voices
I have a lot of loud people in my life—hell, some of my best friends are loud! But maybe for a day, it’d be nice for everyone just to turn it down to a two or three. Shouting makes me nervous. When people start shouting, I know it’s just a matter of time before a fight breaks out. Same goes for joyful shouting. Not really a fan of exuberance of any sort.
Gift option #4: Dinner out at an easy restaurant
Please, for the love of God, spare me the indignity of having to modify something at a restaurant. There’s so much that can go wrong in that situation: what if they forget to take the mayo off? What if my food accidentally touches one of the pickles? What if they talk shit about me in the kitchen? Don’t make me expose my unsophisticated toddler palate, or, perhaps worse, make me seem like I’m an inconvenience in any way.
Gift option #5: An offer to be confrontational on the phone
I feel like I’m a pretty skeptical consumer when it comes to memberships and recurring payments, which means I don’t usually sign up for things without days, weeks, months of careful consideration (it’s crazy how I can drop $7 on a craft beer without any second thought, but I’ll hem and haw about upgrading my Google Drive storage for 99-cents a month). But I have been known to make mistakes, like the time I signed up for stamps.com. Why did I need stamps? Why did I think I had so much outgoing mail that I needed a cumbersome, inconvenient process to streamline all my correspondences, when, in fact, I mail maybe two or three things a year? Stamps.com doesn’t let you quit online, so I had to call them to cancel my membership, and I was not happy. If someone had just offered to call stamps.com for me, I wouldn’t have had that brief moment of discomfort that I’ve held onto for years.
Gift option #6: Silent rideshares
I’m aware that this is a very classist request. The current evils of capitalism has forced an entire workforce into a gig economy, where tech companies fuel competition amongst their crowdsourced labor without having to pay for medical coverage or any of the other perks that used to be standard at a place of employment. Just talking to an Uber or Lyft driver is the most basic human courtesy one person can give to someone just trying to make ends meet. However, there are some fucking weird rideshare drivers out there! Why would I ever want to hear a business pitch while I’m on my way to get shit-faced? Why would I ever talk about politics with a stranger? I’m definitely not going to start believing in God in the 10 minutes it takes to get to The Casbah. I’m sure there are anxiety-ridden drivers out there, too. Let’s meet up, drive and be happy-quiet together.