The writing is on the wall. It says I'm sarcastic.
OK, it was handwriting. And it wasn't a wall. It was a document analyzed by a handwriting analysis expert.
When he called to give me results, he said, "Your handwriting indicates you're resilient. You're diligent. You're creative. And, you're sarcastic. I like you in spite of all that!"
I also liked him. He understood why I tend to be cynical.
I'm diligent in saying it's because idiots want my money. People who don't think are people who count my money. And people who can't think for themselves are people with power.
Let's begin with the greed mongers. Daily I'm flooded with requests from folks who want to offer me free lifetime opportunities in exchange for my money. Last week, I shared one of these great deals with my hubby.
"Hey, listen to this offer sent to me instead of you," I boasted. "These people want to give me a free hair transplant."
"What's the catch?" my skeptical spouse asked.
"Well, all I have to do is send them three payments for $49.95 each, and they'll send my free hair."
"I know how you can transplant your hair for free," my beloved countered. "Just pull your red locks from the drain."
Of course, I couldn't let him get away with such snark. "I think they mean hair for my head not hair from my head."
He scoffed. "You've got really thick hair. Where would you put new hair? I guess you could let your roots grow out and glue it to your skunk stripe."
To end the discussion, I decided to go get some milk from the store across the street. Getting there is no small fete considering I shattered both ankles in an accident in 2002. As a result, my feet are attached to the rest of my body by steel plates, screws and bolts. Now, both ankle bones together measure less than a whole one on most people.
Doctors predicted I would never walk again. But, I proved them wrong. However, I might have to eat crow if I ever fall and break my ankles again. So any slight injury leaves me slightly unhinged - literally.
This brings me to expressing sarcasm toward people who don't think although they're people who count my money.
In this case, I arrived home at the same time as a really sweet woman who lives on the floor above me. As I climbed the first step towards the front porch of our building, I twisted my left ankle and unwillingly copped a squat.
Noticing the tears in my eyes, my neighbor said, "It's nice to see you. You look great. You're getting around better and better since your accident. But why are you sprawled on the steps looking like you're in pain? Are you practicing you're acting?"
I decided to deny I was giving an Academy Award performance. So, I told the truth. "I just twisted my ankle."
Being the sweetheart that she is, my friend helped me up and expressed concern. "Gee, I sure hope you didn't twist one of the two ankles you broke."
I was thankful for the pain so I wouldn't laugh at her logic. After getting to my apartment, I told my mate about the encounter.
As he plopped an ice pack on my ankle, I asked, "Do you think she views me as a freak who has more than two ankles?"
"No, she's an accountant. She obviously has a better grasp of numbers than you do. By the way, I see hair products in this bag for the new free hair you're going to buy. But where's the milk?"
An hour and four anti-inflammatory tablets later, my ankle was back to normal. I announced I was returning to the store to get the milk I forgot because I was preoccupied with not getting my free hair transplant.
This is when I interacted with a gullible guy with power. While crossing through the lobby of my apartment building, I saw a young resident attempting to cast the lead role for his film school project. He shuffled headshots of young, beautiful, hopeful starlets as if he really wanted to play strip poker.
When I returned from the store, the Steven Spielberg wannabee was still in the lobby playing with his pictures. I said, "Hey, you look a little perplexed."
He admitted his dilemma and sought my help. "I need to decide which of these two girls should be the lead in my movie for school. Look at them, and on a ten-point system, give me your honest opinion."
I've always been told that if you act confident, people will not realize you have no clue what you're doing. I thought I'd try the technique since I knew nothing about his film.
"Well, I'll give this first one two points for her hair, three points for her smile and five points for her eyes. This second one, well, she gets five points for her eyes, three points for her smile and only two points for her hair."
With great gratitude the youngster said, "Thanks. I agree it should be the first girl. She does have great eyes! And, you by the way, have great hair. You'll never need a transplant."
I reinforced his brilliant decision, "Since all are in favor, I guess the eyes have it."
But he got the last word, "I'm sure glad you came along. Everyone else I asked was sarcastic."