Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Close encounters of the dimwitted kind

I love meeting new people. By love, I mean I enjoy fucking with them. After the pleasantries and introductions, usually the first question is "What do you do for a living?" This is a vexing question for me, as I am in between positions at the moment. So I have adapted a new way to entertain myself: inveterate lying. It's fun. Here is one recent interaction, between me and a prospective new "friend". Notice how I set up the fact that I have instantaneous disdain for this person by consistently repeating the question "Me?" in an obviously mocking tone. OK, away we go. I should mention for posterity's sake, this is a woman I am speaking with.

Unwitting Pawn: So... what do you do?
Me: Me? I think I'm a writer.
UP: Oh. Who do you write for?
Me: Me? No one.
UP: So you're a freelancer. Cool.
Me: Me? No. No freelancing.
UP: I don't understand. How do you make a living?
Me: Me? I'm independently wealthy.
UP: {starting up} Really?
Me: No.
UP: {scoff} So, what do you do?
Me: I think... I'm a writer.
UP: But... how do you make money? Mo-ney? {does that thing where she rubs her thumb, forefinger, and middle finger together so as to indicate she is talking about money.}
Me: I rob banks.
UP: Come on! Where do you get your money to live on?
Me: Ok. You want to know th truth? {looks around to be sure no one is eavesdropping} I am a writer. I write for the government. They pay me to write propaganda pamphlets. You know, the ones they distribute in Afghanistan and Iraq? Sometimes, I kinda feel like a Nazi, but then I think, "Hey, even Nazis had to eat*."
UP: Well, that's obviously a lie.
Me: What part?
UP: The whole thing.
Me: Nope. You're wrong.
UP: Well, which part is true?
Me: {pause} Ok. You got me.
UP: So, how do you make money?
Me: Why is this so important to you? I'm obviously not going to tell you.
UP: Why not?
Me: Because I don't like you.
UP: But we just met 10 minutes ago.
Me: And they've been the most excruciating 10 minutes of my life.
UP: You're a dick {giggles}. How can you be so sure you don't like me?
Me: Me? I'm a good judge of character. And I'm excellent at snap judgements. In fact, I minored in it in college.
UP: Look, I'm asking you one more time, and then, I'm walking away. What do you do for a living?
Me: Me? I'm a coke dealer.
UP: {exasperated sigh; walks away shaking her head**}


That's ok. I didn't want need any new friends anyway.

*In no way am I condoning anything the Nazis ever did or said. I was merely pointing out that all humans must provide for themselves, even the deplorable ones.

**To be honest, that night, we did end up sleeping together. But I haven't seen her since, and I gave her a fake phone number. And she thinks my name is Archibald. So I'm in the clear, I think.

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