Comparative Advantage

I’ve never liked a good liar, however I respect the hell out of their dexterity.

Your eye hits their eye and unconsciously your brain has just categorized, stereotyped, calculated and formulated a subjective position, completely based on a quick glance. Isn’t it frustrating how people we assume stuffy turn out to be a comedic and endearing, or those who appear organized thrive in chaotic disarray. Then there are the people assumed to be wretched, snobbish or finicky, but eventually become our closest cohorts. And why is it that it’s nearly impossible to predict what people are presuming about us?

To forecast if the ethical mindset of a stranger is “good” or a “bad” is an art in which I admit I have no skill. It’s taken several years of sucking at reading people to recognize this shortcoming. However, the painful repercussions have challenged me to be open to the many things (intelligence, wit, empathy, sheer joy) an individual can offer in exchange for friendship, forcing me to rein back how judgmental I typically prefer to be… because let’s face it, people watching and analyzing the details of apparel or character traits is a frivolous and terribly delightful activity that journalists more than anybody partake in.

While I attempt to rummage up satirical humor to inject into my ramblings, it’s difficult to find anything funny about not being able to read people. It’s important to debunk my personal (narcissist) verbiage to note these entries are scribed upon the request of my friends, who either like to claim they relish my diatribe on a regular basis, or my friends from afar who miss out on my routine rhetoric. Not just to get people to read this stuff and think, wow… she must have a lot of time on her hands. I have hardly any free time (I’m a victim of over committing myself) – while I can’t claim expertise in intuition, I’ve mastered every area of procrastination.

Let me explain. While my biggest blunder is assuming I have the capacity to untangle the intricacies of a personally– I’m damn good at pretending it’s actually my strength. My desire to extract personal information about a stranger couldn’t be more authentic, genuine… it’s what I’ve dedicated my life to – a journalist has the ability to tell one story to thousands of people, which otherwise they never would have heard.

So I guess I can tell you the secret details of a person – their fears, what turns them on – and what turns them off. Ambition and failure – you name it, fetishes and absurd observations they inherently pick up. Their history of mistakes and successes, how they envision their future – I can script the life of a stranger or a confidante in different fonts and vibrant adjectives. I was born a proactive listener (as you read this – I’m sure you have doubts), but if you talk to me, or read my words I can recount verbatim what you said, in what tone, whether it was with enthusiasm, vulnerability and trust, or fear I’d judge. And while I can retell a story with dimension and emotion - I’ve just realized it’s nearly impossible for me to detect whether that person is “good,” or not.