the truth deception

16 May

when i was 18, my boss was a quirky young woman of about 24. we worked together many hours a day and got along well. one unasuming day however, my boss asked me: “do i annoy you?”

i enjoyed my boss’ company but occasionaly i did find her annoying. nothing major but enough that i knew my honest answer was a “yes”. the completely unpredictable nature of many women hand’t been drilled into me at this point but i was well aware this was a question to answer nicely, not honestly. “no, of course not”, was my response. but my boss was insistent, “come on, tell me the truth, you find me annoying don’t you?”

asking me the same question repeatedly happened to be one of her little quirks that did, in fact, annoy me. so there i was, an unavoidably straight-to-the point young man entrapped by the words “tell me the truth” and an honest answer waiting to escape. my slippery, juvenile grasp of the softer gender’s take on honesty failed to hold me back. i said, simply: “sometimes”.

her cheeky smirk deformed into enraged devastation. “how could you say that!? how could you say something so mean to me!? i can’t BELIEVE you’d say that to me?! i’m your boss!!” you’d have thought i told her she looks like a smashed crab and probably has them too. i apologized but to no avail.

i remember not being surprised. i remember knowing i’d been caught by the truth deception.

crazy bitch tip: if you don’t want the truth, don’t ask for it. some of us are dumb enough to provide it.

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