How To

You ever impulse buy things? Yeah. I do that a lot. Probably too much. You know how the cycle goes. Bored, scrolling through your phone, and that, well… impulse just hits you. You want to buy something. You don’t need it, but you need it. Of course, then it arrives however long later, and you realise you didn’t actually want it in the first place. What am I going to do with a replica card game set straight out of a video game? Yeah, that kind of a thing.

Look, I just needed to set the tone there. Just following instructions. I’m pretty good at that, too. Dead-end job, no choice but to do what the higher-ups say. At least, that was before. Now, well, I’m still really good at following instructions, but I can just follow my own if I want. Pretty amazing breakthrough, if you ask me.

But it was this one day, right? I was heading home from my job. I took an early day. I just needed to get away from that environment. It was such a lovely day out. Who wants to be stuck sitting in a cubicle all day? I’d rather be stuck sitting on my couch. It isn’t much more comfortable or anything, but nobody makes small talk while I’m there.

Walking home, though, I stopped at this little stoop sale about a block or two away from my building. Just a few curious little things for sale, nothing too much, but it just caught my eye, just improved that walk home a little bit. Maybe I’m easily distracted. Looking through, though, I just got struck by that impulse. I needed something here. My wallet was too heavy. I had a bit of spare cash; I wouldn’t need to eat too cheap for the rest of the week. Yeah, I know, you probably think all that every time too. I’m not sure if we’re trying to talk ourselves out of it at that point or talk ourselves into it.

It was this book. I’d had a journal when I was a kid, and holy crap, was it useful. I used to track homework, sleepovers, parties, my favourite cheat codes, all that stuff. Whatever came to mind, really. But this little book was the spitting image of the one I used to have! I could do the same thing. Well. Minus the homework. And the sleepovers. And I don’t go to parties very often. But the black leather binding was so pretty, though!

I reached out for it. Who wouldn’t? I was just about to grab it, and the shopkeeper grabbed my arm. I looked up and probably jumped a foot in the air I was so shocked. She was looking right at me, grinning. She was missing a few teeth. She didn’t seem to mind.

“No touching, please, lovey,” she said. “Only touch if you’re purchasing,” never breaking eye contact. She did let go of my hand, though.

“H-how much?” yeah, I stuttered. Wouldn’t you? I was intimidated.

She didn’t say anything else, but she did point to a small, handwritten sign. It read simply, ‘All purchases pay what you can.’ I took a step back but quickly (if nervously) started pulling out my wallet. I grabbed the smallest note I had (I think it was $20, in case you’re curious), dropped it in the payment box, grabbed the book, and quickly moved on my way.

“Thank you, dear!” she called after me. I didn’t look back.

I was about 30 seconds from my front door when I finally thought to look at what I’d purchased. The paper bound in this book looked aged but not damaged or falling apart. Yellowed. The binding was taut but with a little give. Like it hadn’t been opened or used too much. There was a little bit of indenting over the front of it, as though it might have had a title once upon a time. It read “How To.”

Wait, a title? I didn’t want a book or anything with a title. I flipped open the first few pages, and there was text! I didn’t need a book. Who has time to read these days? I rolled my eyes and adjusted my bag. I sighed, looking longingly at my front door. I turned around, heading back the way I came. Guess I could just return it. If she didn’t grab me again, I’d even be happy if she kept the money.

That impulse-buy sinking feeling kept growing as I walked back. Not even any screenshots or a preview of the thing before I got it. I just took the scary lady’s word for it. Now it’s filled with text, and that’s not what I wanted at all. I steeled myself, took a deep breath, turned the corner to where the stall was, and…

It wasn’t there. What the hell? Not like the woman wasn’t there, or it was being packed away, but like it was never there at all. Bins and trash were piled there, ready to be taken away. This book might be trash, but I don’t think I hallucinated an entire garage sale? I walked around the block and took a few alternate turns just in case I’d got it wrong. Nope. Just completely gone. I was stuck with this book.

I went home. Down twenty bucks but up a book.

* * *

More than a few weeks passed. I won’t lie; I put that book down and forgot all about it. Didn’t read it. I was too filled with buyer’s remorse for that. Actually, that’s still a lie. I put my wallet on top of it when I got home so that if I had to go and get my wallet to impulse buy something, I’d see it as a big reminder of my regret.

That’s why I ended up actually picking it up and reading it one day. Something that I realised I didn’t need even as I was in the process of purchasing it. To keep me away from that checkout button, I just picked up the book and went to read the first few pages.

“How To: find the stoop sale and return this book.”

You better believe I was shocked. That was exactly what I’d wanted to do on that day. There was a bunch of directions and some specific times and all that were a bit too long ago for me to do anything about now. More’s the shame. But hey, if this book had anything else this specific, maybe it would actually be worth keeping.

I kept flipping through, and the next segment was “How To: utilise this volume.” Evidently, all I had to do was think about wanting to do something, and some of the pages would fill up with a step-by-step how-to guide on that thing. I did the exact same thing anyone would do in this situation. I closed the book, held it real close, and started thinking, ‘I want to be rich, I want to be rich…’

I flipped open the book, scrambling through all the pages, scanning them as quickly as I could, but… it just ended up blank. As blank as the journal I’d wanted in the first place. Too broad and vague, I guess. Though what did I know? I didn’t know how magic tutorial journals worked. I spent the whole night trying the exact same thing for the same result.

It hit me the next morning. I figured out how to actually do it. Yeah, okay, I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed; you’re right on that one. I held it really close and asked how to win the lottery.

That one finally worked—a set of step by step instructions. I nearly passed out from the pure adrenaline rush; I could barely comprehend it. With my heart pounding, I started putting them into action. If text can magically appear in this book somehow, who’s to say it can’t be right? Leave the house, walk a few blocks to a little gas station I’d never usually go to, buy the seventh ticket down, look at these numbers in particular. Wait. Has a book ever told you to wait? It’s a pretty nerve-wracking experience. Magic books in particular. It doesn’t even have a voice. I didn’t even know if it’d work.

But… I somehow got through it. A terrible few days at work, but I made it through, somehow. Pretty sure I didn’t get much done. The time came for the numbers to be read out, and one by one, it happened. The numbers started matching. Kept matching. All of them matched. All of them matched!! I’d won!

I quit my job the next day. I bought myself a house and a car, set myself up somewhat. It’s crazy how much a sum of money can set you up, isn’t it?

Why am I writing this now? Well, I asked it something else, of course. I had money, at this point, enough to be comfortable. So I’d held it close and wondered how to find someone to spend my life and time with. There was only one step. ‘Write a book.’ It hadn’t lead me wrong so far.

Hang on. I need to try something else. I’m going to go think, “how to finish a book.” I’ll get back to you...