The Good, the Good, and the Really Good

Human interaction can be rough.
Human interaction during the first week of school can be really rough. Walking through the Pryz is like walking through an awkward family reunion – everyone recognizes each other, but no one knows what to say. Sometimes, if we’re lucky, there is unnecessary squealing, followed by a blatantly obvious comment: “OH MY GAAAAWWWWD! I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU ALL SUMMER!” Oh jeez.
And there are always questions. Questions we already know the answer to: “How was your summer?” It was good. “How is your family?” They are GOOD. “How are your classes?” GOOD, DANG IT, EVERYTHING IS GOOD.
Okay, I’m getting worked up. I think it’s because I scold myself every time I fall into this awkward pattern. I mean, my summer wasn’t just good. It was stupendous when I got to sleep in, it sucked when I had to get up for work, it was beautiful when I got to sit outside; it deserves better adjectives than good!
So the other day, I decided to change. I vowed not to answer a single question, “good,” nor let anyone else give me that cop-out word as an answer to one of my inquiries. I even got really dorky and looked “good” up on thesaurus.com. Why use the plain, boring word good when you could say something like, “Oh yes, ol’ chum, my summer was quite recherché and my classes have proven extremely satisfactory.” Actually, don’t do that, people will throw rocks at you.
Anyway, I walked to the Pryz determined to have a real conversation. I got my first opportunity almost immediately when I bumped into a girl who used to be in one of my classes. I say a girl because I forgot her name, and by the look on her face, she probably couldn’t remember mine either. But we made eye contact and something had to be said.
“Oh hey girl!” she said as we awkwardly hugged. “How was your summer!?”
“It was wonderful,” I said, racking my brain for some sort of story I could tell to prove it. “I went to the dentist! Oh, and I had dinner at my grandma’s house and she made this crazy casserole thing with broccoli in it. I don’t really like broccoli but I like my grandma. And I went to the beach with my family, but that’s a whole other story!”
The girl looked shocked. She probably didn’t know that words other “good” were allowed in conversations like this. I was glad I let her know.
I proudly asked, “And how was your summer?” hoping that she would return the favor and share a personal anecdote or maybe an adjective that I had never heard before.
Instead she just stared, blinked twice, and said, “It was good.” And then she ran out of the Pryz. I was surprised! I mean I had seen her every day during class and I never would have guessed she was a sprinter!
A little discouraged, I trudged up the stairs to the student restaurant, hoping I could still prove that “good” is bad. As I waited in line to get my card swiped, a guy that I used to hang out with in my freshman dorm walked up behind me. Thank goodness, I remembered his name.
“Hank!” I said, trying to keep my squealing to a minimum (which is harder than it looks). “How are you? How was your summer?”
Hank gave me a hug and said confidently, “I am doing really good! My summer was good, but I’m glad to be back.”
Suddenly, I felt very emotional. Why didn’t Hand trust me with his true feelings? If he was having a rough time, I have two whole shoulders to cry on! And if he had an extraordinary experience over the summer, well, I wanted to give him a pat on the back!
“Hank?”
“Yes?”
“What have I done to you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Hank, just tell me how you are really feeling. I know you’re not just GOOD. There’s more to you, Hank, I know there is! We made pancakes together in Flather last year! Remember?!?! Does that mean nothing to you now?!”
I took a deep breath. Hank looked like he was going to cry.
“Never mind,” I said. “I’m glad you are good.”
I sat down in a corner booth and watched people interact. People were smiling and saying that their summers were good all over the place and they seemed perfectly happy. Maybe you can’t know everything about everyone. And, let’s face it, not everyone wants to know about my grandma’s broccoli casserole. It’s not impersonal, and, you know what, it’s not insulting! It’s just how humans roll, I guess.
So after my failed experiment, I’ve decided it’s perfectly fabulous to have had a good summer and to feel good about your classes. And you know what, it is good to be back.