My curiosity is often mistaken for interest in a subject. Does this happen to you? Let me explain. I worked with a man who practiced the religion of Jehovah’s Witness. Having been raised Roman Catholic I didn’t know anything about his religion so I asked questions. He mistook my curiosity for the desire to become one of his kind. Not for me. No offense to anyone who is. Everyone has to walk their own path, if you get what I mean.
Some years later a woman selling Mary Kay cosmetics thought my questions meant I wanted to sell the makeup. NO. Again, no offense implied, but you don’t want me selling you makeup. I can barely get mascara on.
The other night I was at a Pampered Chef party. When it was time to check out the saleswoman says, “you were very attentive. Are you interested doing what I do?” I politely told her no, I am an author, I have a gig. What I wanted to say was please don’t mistake my level of politeness (most of the other women were talking amogst themselves half the time) for interest in selling cooking products. I don’t even like to cook!
What am I? Arnold Horseshack? And if you don’t know who that is I suggest you go look him up.
I think it’s time to stop asking questions. It might be better to keep my head down and my mouth shut. Fly under the radar as they say. If I’m not careful someone might try and recruit me for their satanic cult, because you know I’m going to ask a ton of questions about that!
Or is it nothing more than someone loving their cause so much they think everyone else will too. (The everyone being me, here.) This thought process makes me think of parents who believe everyone loves their little darlings as much as they do. What does Stephen King say about our little darlings? Just asking.