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"Say, do you like music?" the pushy man at the record store counter asked me. I thought the question was rather vague, but my parents taught me never to lie. I figured I needed to answer honestly.

"Sure I do."

"Well come on, then. Buy this album!" He showed me a copy of Chris Deburgh, 20th Century Masters and began ringing it up. I was also told not to refuse the kindness of strangers, or something along those lines, and no amount of sophistry could get me out of this one anyway. I wasn't that quick on my feet, really, and what was the point of arguing?

A few years later, I used the same technique, or tactic, if you will, on Mary Henderson.

"Say, Mary, do you like sex?"

I knew Mary had received the same sort of child rearing that I had, for our parents were good friends.

"Sure I do," she replied.

We made love that night, though she cried for what seemed like hours and hours afterwards.

"Say, Mary, do you like keeping secrets?"

Date Written: March 23, 2005
Author: Turgid
Average Vote: 3