The Butt of My Own Joke

People who don't know me very well, who consider me to be a quiet, sensitive person, are always surprised to learn that I am in fact an insufferable smartass. I tend to keep my snarky comments to myself when I'm around people I don't know that well, partly because a lot of people tend to assume that I'm making fun of them, but mostly because even more people don't realize I am making fun of them. Then I'm in the awkward position of having to explain that I'm a jerk who thinks they are stupid, and I usually don't stop talking until I've proven at least one of those points. For example, the conversation might go like this:

Diesel: What did you have for lunch today, Tom?
Tom: I went to this great vegan place that makes these fabulous corn dogs from eggplant and sawdust.
Diesel: What, and you didn't bring me back any?!
Tom: Well, actually I was saving one for dinner, but you can have it if you want.
Diesel: Nah. Look at you, you're like a rail. You need all the sawdust you can get.
Tom: No, seriously, it's ok. I still have some frozen lasagna made from acorns and peat moss. I could eat that stuff every night of the week.
Diesel: No, really, I couldn't.
Tom: I insist. I saw how your eyes lit up when I mentioned it, and I wouldn't dream of denying you the pleasure. Please, have one of my vegan corn dogs.
Diesel: Yeah.... Well, the thing is, I don't really like food that doesn't have bacon in it.
Tom: Really? Then why did you say you did?
Diesel: I was kind of making fun of you.
Tom: Wow. You're kind of an a******.
Diesel: Yes, I really am.

So usually I keep my mouth shut, unless I know my audience. And you'd think that it would be ok to make fun of yourself, but even that's not safe. Like this morning, I was at the post office, waiting at the counter, and one postal worker said to another, "Have you seen my name tag? I think I lost it." It took all my willpower not to say, in my best Dumb Guy voice, "Maybe you should put your name on it." It would have amused me, but from that point on I would have been either known as That Idiot Who Comes in Every Friday or That Jerk Who Comes in Every Wednesday, and I don't think they were even going to let me pick which one.

Actually part of the problem is that I'm too nice a guy to make good on my malicious intentions. I like making fun of people, but I lack follow-through. For instance there was the time that I got a phone call at work, which was strange in itself, because they don't usually let me talk to people outside the building. I answered with a timid "Hello?", and was greeted by a woman asking if I was Dr. Wong. I said, "You have the wrong number," and hung up. I was pretty sure that it was a co-worker of mine known for her dry sense of humor, so I wasn't surprised when she called back.

"Is this Dr. Wong's office?" she asked. "Sorry, wrong number," I said, and hung up. Where is Karen going with this? I thought to myself, as the phone rang again.

I answered with a chipper "Dr. Wong's office. How can I help you?"

Of course this seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Anyone in my position would have done the same thing, I know. Still, I began to rethink my decision when the woman began to go into excruciating detail about her husband's medical problems and his urgent need for a rectal exam. (I swear to you, I am not making this up.)

Now if I were a character on Seinfeld, I would have made the appointment for next Tuesday at 10:30, and then been repaid by some horrible karmic retribution, like an unpleasant encounter with fusilli Jerry. But rather than face that prospect, I broke down. "I'm sorry, this isn't Dr. Wong's office." I said. "You have the wrong number. You've called me three times now, and I just couldn't take it any more."

She said, "Oh." And I apologized and said goodbye. But when I replay the incident in my mind it goes more like this:

Not Karen: What do you mean, this isn't Dr. Wong's office?
Diesel: I was just playing a joke. I thought it would be funny.
Not Karen: So you were pretending to be a proctologist for fun?
Diesel: Yeah.
Not Karen: Wow. You're kind of an a******.
Diesel: Yes, I really am.


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