I used to think the soccer mom who sat next to me at work was annoying and overzealous. Now I realize she’s just a “Happy Monday” (an “excessively cheerful office worker with an overly earnest maternal nature”). A lot of the people in my Iowa hometown have strange Southern accents and like to shoot squirrels. No worries — they’re just a band of harmless “Yanknecks” (“rebel-flag-waving Rednecks who live outside of the south”). Ever wonder what the proper name for those Japanese tourists who always are outfitted in over-the-top yet decidedly fashionable ensembles? I may have a book for you.
“Food Court Druids, Cherohonkees and Other Creatures Unique to the Republic” is the sort of book that no one really needs but everyone should have. Written by the creators of the wildly popular “The Hipster Handbook,” this thin paperback is more of a kitschy instruction manual than a profound novel. Since the book is targeted specifically at young people with short attention spans, the aesthetically pleasing, manual format is completely readable (i.e. not textbook-like) with funny pictures and graphics.
If the very title of the book isn’t enough to intrigue the casual bookstore browser, a short forward explains its goal: to study the idiosyncrasies of various individuals and groups of individuals based on their distinguishing behaviors and characteristics. Delving into five distinct “Idiosyncrasy Groups,” the book details 31 personality types, everything from “Sigmund Fruits” (“people who insist on telling you about their dreams”) to “Hexpatriates” (“ex-patriates who never actually leave the country”) and rates these groups on an “Idio-Rank” scale with scores ranging from one (“normal”) to ten (“run, this person is a freak”).
In addition to lumping personalities into categories, the book breaks these categories down into subcategories which further detail the quirky attributes typical of each group. For example, we’ve all heard about “metrosexuals,” but how about “multiplexuals,” “hydrosexuals” or “retrosexuals”? “Food Court Druids” explains them all.
In analyzing idiosyncrasies, the book doesn’t stop with humans. Even canine “gayness” is analyzed. According to “Food Court Druids,” my family’s basset hound is “only a tad gay” whereas our miniature schnauzer is “pretty dog-gone gay.” Watch out for Shi Tzus which are “so gay they can fly.”
Needless to say “Food Court Druids” is politically incorrect. At times it even borders on offensive. Example: “What do you call African-American cowboys and cowgirls?” “Cowboyees and cowgizzles” of course. When taken in small doses along with a grain of irony, however, this book is as thought-provoking as it is hilarious — the jaded hipster’s answer to modern social commentary and a perfect compliment to any Ikea coffee table.
— Mackenzie Horras
