A ‘basic’ rule … I’ll do me, you do you

My wife and I noticed the line was starting to form outside Brookline Booksmith a little after 4 p.m.

As we were eating pizza and meatballs across the street at Otto, we watched the line grow until it extended around the corner of the building and down to the end of the block.

Turns out, a lot of people wanted to see Stassi Schroeder.

I thought you were either basic or you weren’t; no one told me there were gears to go through. Apparently, it’s “about embracing what it is that you personally love,” which, OK, I can get behind.

At the sight of her name, the initiated probably were either at Booksmith or wished they had been.

For the uninitiated (and I was definitely one of those), Stassi Schroeder is “a reality star, podcast queen, and ranch dressing expert” who “gives you hilarious and pointed lessons on how to have fun and celebrate yourself” in her new book “Next Level Basic,” “with exclusive stories from her own life and on the set of ‘Vanderpump Rules.‘”

Oh, and in case you were wondering, “Vanderpump Rules” is “a Bravo ‘Real Housewives’ spin-off that follows an incestuous and hard-partying group of friends who work in the restaurants of Housewife Lisa Vanderpump.”

I have not watched one second of the show, and not just because I don’t get Bravo, but the latest episode available online is called “The Exorcism of Stassi Schroeder.”

First of all, as a friend asked, “Ranch dressing expert?”

Secondly, there are levels to basicness? I thought you were either basic or you weren’t; no one told me there were gears to go through. Apparently, it’s “about embracing what it is that you personally love,” which, OK, I can get behind.

If I ever watched the show it would probably be too soon — we were in town for the NT Live screening of “All About Eve” at Coolidge Corner Theatre — but as someone who generally thinks people should do what makes them happy, I really shouldn’t judge. Plus, in general, I have no business judging anyone, anyway.

Which I realize probably makes me sound … next-level basic.

It was hard not to notice that the ratio of males to females made my Monday-night exercise class — the one where I’m usually the only guy in eight to 12 people unless the instructor’s father comes — look like a veritable testosterone distillery.

But back to the people who started lining up two hours before the book-signing.

It was hard not to notice that the ratio of males to females made my Monday-night exercise class — the one where I’m usually the only guy in eight to 12 people unless the instructor’s father comes — look like a veritable testosterone distillery.

I have to confess that my first thought was that those guys must have been dragged there, but there’s nothing saying guys can’t like “Vanderpump Rules,” right? Not to mention I always wonder what guys are thinking when they peer into my exercise class and notice I’m the only guy there.

In other words, I ought to know better.

After all, who doesn’t like a good exorcism?

And even though I don’t eat salad, ranch dressing is for everyone.

So hopefully all the people waiting got in — I don’t know where they were going to put them — and had a good time.

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