Do you honestly expect me to believe that?

I try to be helpful. I really do. When I see someone who looks kind of forlorn or maybe a bit bedraggled, I offer my help. Maybe I shouldn't be prying into their personal life. But I have good intentions, believe me. That's why I will usually ask someone, "What's the matter?" if they look like they need a bit of encouragement. 

But then I get the usual answer. In fact, I get this answer so often that I'm not even sure why I ask people anymore. "Oh . . . nothing," they nonchalantly (and dejectedly) reply. 

Liars. I hate liars. Obviously, if they're crying and they're sitting by themselves and they look like they just got hit by a taxi, something is wrong. So don't you dare tell me that you're perfectly fine.

I mean, really all I'm asking is for you to say one of two things: 1) "I'd rather not talk about it, Jordan, but thanks for asking." or 2) "You want the truth? Then it's the truth you'll get: I hate my life, all of my friends are like Paris Hiltons at best, and I'm ugly. And I'm chubby as well." 

Oh, for the moment that one person would look me in the face and say those words! But I'm not that lucky of a guy. Most of the people I know hide their problems from me. And I'm completely OK with that. Privacy is a beautiful thing.

But why must you degrade my intelligence by giving me "the look" (you know what I'm talking about) and saying that you're fine? 

Really, I think it comes down to this: People are selfish, and they want you to feel even more sympathy for them than you would normally have for a raped dog. So they drag the suspense out as long as they can. Aren't I clever? they think to themselves as they prolong their misery just to get me feeling sorry for them.

So I'm just not going to take it anymore. And you shouldn't either. I am determined from now on to call down anyone who tries to pull this evil trick on me. And it will be great, because I know they won't be expecting it. Hopefully that glorious moment will play out something like this:

Me: Hey Selfish. What's the matter?

Said Selfish Being: Oh . . . (looks at me with those puppy dog eyes, then turns away and looks to the left) nothing.

Me: Oh please. Just get over yourself. I can't believe you would be so ridiculously stupid as to actually think that I--for one second--might believe that you are perfectly fine. Wait . . . you know, I don't have time for people like you. Just please, start being honest with yourself. And me as well, OK? And then I'll be your friend again once you get your heart right. Bye.

Oh, how I would love to put Said Selfish Being in his or her place! Yes, it would make me look cruel and unusual. Yes, bystanders would immediately start to whisper that the only reason I called Said Selfish Being out was to make myself look better. (You know, something like, He's one of those 'holier than thou' people, and they would all step back in disgust.) And yes, I might even feel horrible for six minutes. But Selfish? He or she would get the message . . . at least I hope so. And maybe--just maybe--he or she would change for the better.

But I doubt it.