Black Coffee and White Lies
This is the story of the development of a character(istic) called Wyte Lie.
Let me give you a description of Mr. Lie
(and by the way, those defender-of-the-unnoticed-offense out there who might say "Why is this character male?!, he is male because Wyte sounds like a male name. Arbitrary.)
He is quite appealing, really. Not sure what it is; I think it's a family trait. All Lies are pretty mysterious, and yet have a talent of asserting themselves. Wyte is probably the most popular, and is found engaging in most conversations. But I think the appeal is superficial. You see, he has a habit of getting you into messes and not helping you out of them. And then you wish that you had never befriended Wyte Lie at all.
I remember running into Wyte Lie at work a couple of months ago. I ran into him, you see, because that day was particiularly busy, so I was running most of the time anyway. A kitchen worker I passed by asked how I was doing, and when I responded that I was tired, the kindly elder gentleman offered to make me coffee. That's when Wyte Lie got his foot in the door.
"That's okay," I said.
But that really isn't a "no", so when I passed the kitchen next, the k.e.g. (kind elder gentleman) told me that he had made his special coffee for me with milk [btw, yes I know that this means the coffee is not black as my post title suggests, but it created a nice juxtaposition of colors] and cinnamon. Wyte, the pest, pointed out that it would be rude of me to turn it down considering he had put in particular thought, time, and effort; and that I didn't have time to explain that I don't drink coffee. So I took the coffee and gave it to a co-worker. When k.e.g saw me again, sitting next to my newly-caffeinated co-worker, he called across the hall to ask how I liked it. I repeated his question out of the side of my mouth to afore-mentioned co-worker, and when I got her response, called out "It was delicious!"
Oh, Wyte. Why do I pay attention to you? K.e.g. has since made me at least two more cups of coffee, and fortunately someone (actually, the same someone, come to think of it) is always willing to drink the sweetened bitter cup. I have taken to avoiding k.e.g. because I don't like deceiving him. Wyte loves the situation tremendously, and is only too ready to provide more suggestions to prolong the deception. This, then, is my analysis of him: his superficial desire to please results in mostly pleasing himself, on sacrificing trust for convenience.
Think, my friends, on the word 'understand.' My completely bogus etymological assessment shows that the word is very physical in nature: to stand on something, you must be in contact with that something. To be under something means that it is not a superficial contact. So the word understand means that a person has a non-superficial connection with some other noun, be it person or idea. How are we to understand each other if we use Wyte Lie's superficiality?
I doubt I can easily end my association with Wyte. But I can at least minimize the number of times we hang out.
This week, when k.e.g. offered me coffee, I told him I didn't want it, but I had a friend who did. So he gave me the coffee, and I was able to hand it to my co-worker in plain sight of anyone who cared about such things. That's a good, positive step.
Let me give you a description of Mr. Lie
(and by the way, those defender-of-the-unnoticed-offense out there who might say "Why is this character male?!, he is male because Wyte sounds like a male name. Arbitrary.)
He is quite appealing, really. Not sure what it is; I think it's a family trait. All Lies are pretty mysterious, and yet have a talent of asserting themselves. Wyte is probably the most popular, and is found engaging in most conversations. But I think the appeal is superficial. You see, he has a habit of getting you into messes and not helping you out of them. And then you wish that you had never befriended Wyte Lie at all.
I remember running into Wyte Lie at work a couple of months ago. I ran into him, you see, because that day was particiularly busy, so I was running most of the time anyway. A kitchen worker I passed by asked how I was doing, and when I responded that I was tired, the kindly elder gentleman offered to make me coffee. That's when Wyte Lie got his foot in the door.
"That's okay," I said.
But that really isn't a "no", so when I passed the kitchen next, the k.e.g. (kind elder gentleman) told me that he had made his special coffee for me with milk [btw, yes I know that this means the coffee is not black as my post title suggests, but it created a nice juxtaposition of colors] and cinnamon. Wyte, the pest, pointed out that it would be rude of me to turn it down considering he had put in particular thought, time, and effort; and that I didn't have time to explain that I don't drink coffee. So I took the coffee and gave it to a co-worker. When k.e.g saw me again, sitting next to my newly-caffeinated co-worker, he called across the hall to ask how I liked it. I repeated his question out of the side of my mouth to afore-mentioned co-worker, and when I got her response, called out "It was delicious!"
Oh, Wyte. Why do I pay attention to you? K.e.g. has since made me at least two more cups of coffee, and fortunately someone (actually, the same someone, come to think of it) is always willing to drink the sweetened bitter cup. I have taken to avoiding k.e.g. because I don't like deceiving him. Wyte loves the situation tremendously, and is only too ready to provide more suggestions to prolong the deception. This, then, is my analysis of him: his superficial desire to please results in mostly pleasing himself, on sacrificing trust for convenience.
Think, my friends, on the word 'understand.' My completely bogus etymological assessment shows that the word is very physical in nature: to stand on something, you must be in contact with that something. To be under something means that it is not a superficial contact. So the word understand means that a person has a non-superficial connection with some other noun, be it person or idea. How are we to understand each other if we use Wyte Lie's superficiality?
I doubt I can easily end my association with Wyte. But I can at least minimize the number of times we hang out.
This week, when k.e.g. offered me coffee, I told him I didn't want it, but I had a friend who did. So he gave me the coffee, and I was able to hand it to my co-worker in plain sight of anyone who cared about such things. That's a good, positive step.
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