What’s something most people don’t know about you?
Is the title redundant? I mean, if they’re secrets, aren’t they necessarily hidden? And if they are revealed, they’re no longer hidden. Perhaps this is what happens when I write a blog post and formulate a title before that second cup of coffee.
I think there are things that many people don’t know about me and, since those are facts or events that I’d prefer to keep hidden, I won’t be revealing them here. Maybe on a deathbed confession, but no sooner. The phrase, “I’ll take that to my grave!” comes to mind in this context.
Now that I’ve teased you with, “Yes, I’ve had a secret life,” or, “I’ve done things I’m not necessarily proud of,” I almost feel obligated to reveal them. Almost. While such salacious and provocative information may gain me more readers and followers (or perhaps lose an equal or greater number), I’ll hold these items close to my chest.
Besides, among my closest friends, there are those who know bits and pieces or whole items. I will leave it up to them to make my memorial service a memorable event with stunning blockbuster revelations. “Did you know he…?” “What about the….?” could make for a very interesting and theatrical evening, with Steely Dan tracks playing in the background.
I will leave you with one story that may assuage your curiosity (or pique it even more?!). I’ve long been proud of my cooking, and I often did a chicken and vegetable stir fry for female guests. One young woman once declined to go home because it was late but had made it clear she didn’t want to have sex. Since I only had one bed, we decided that it would be okay to share it.
I was very tired and expected to drop off quickly, but she kept moving and waking me up every time I began to drift into sleep. Eventually I realized that she was trying to provoke me to anger; while she proclaimed herself a virgin, she wanted to be spanked. I’m not a violent person, and never do it. But, here, understanding her desire (finally; it took me awhile—I was sleepy, remember?), I obliged her. She reacted in a protesting but positive manner. And then I found an extra blanket and a place on the floor away from the bed and finally found slumber there. We both went to sleep.
I found it odd, and in no way satisfying, to fulfill her fantasy. But the event has long haunted my memory.
MUSOFYR 