Dumbass

I think sometimes I intentionally, purposely make a fool of myself. I’m guessing you’re thinking that’s crazy? Well, it’s not.

You expect, well, no, not expect. You hope for a good turnout. For a good answer, or reply, or whatever. So you put all else aside. You forget about that little nagging voice telling you you’re being stupid, and you say it anyway. Because you’re hoping for the best, and you’re thinking you’re in the perfect timing.

Until you say something, and you realize your mouth shouldn’t have talked. Because the response is delayed, and it’s a kind response as any you’ll ever get, but that’s all it is. Kind. It’s not something to make you leap in the air, it’s not something to make you sleep easier that night, and it’s surely not something to make you glad that you said anything in the first place.

Because it’s only kind. Like a stranger kindly saying to the hobo “No, I don’t have any extra money.” When in fact, he has a crisp 20 in his back right pocket.