I recently met someone who is wonderfully blunt. He’s quick to tell me exactly what he’s thinking, and he expects the same in return.
He’s also incredibly adept at calling me out on my quirks. I’m using the term “quirks” because it sounds cuter than “obnoxious habits.” Who wants to admit to having any of those?
So when I say “quirks,” I’m referring to the way I roll my eyes so frequently that they will probably get stuck at an awkward angle one day or the way I squirm right out of my seat when someone pays me a compliment. The list of these charming characteristics is endless.
While I’ve become rather fond of avoiding eye contact when conversations get uncomfortable (if I can’t see you, this discussion is over, right?), organizing the center consoles in other people’s cars (it’s so much easier to find your change when it’s sorted and stacked) and carrying a full-size bottle of hairspray in my purse (don’t you hate it when a single strand of misplaced hair ruins your entire do?), I have been bluntly reminded that I need to let some of these things go.
I’m sure many sweet souls have tried to correct these and my other endearing attributes in more round-about ways. I appreciate your tact, I truly do, but I’m also intrigued by this boy’s ability to say it like it is.
The authors of this cookbook, which arrived at our office today, obviously agree. Who needs pictures of honey-smothered scones? Why try to mislead buyers with images of a skinny cook? Spit it out.
Now, this is not an open invitation to post your list of complaints regarding my awkwardness in the comments below. I don’t think I’m quite ready for that. I’m simply acknowledging that sometimes a direct, “Why do you use your GPS to drive to the grocery store five blocks away?” is warranted.