Like last year, I don’t have plans for New Year’s Eve tonight. A friend of mine had kindly invited me to go to a house poker party, but I declined because poker is really not my idea of a good time. For one thing I don’t gamble. But most importantly I have no knowledge or interest in poker whatsoever.
I actually don’t like games of any kind. Games and I don’t get along. I take them way too seriously. The competition always eats me away and spoils the fun. I can’t stand losing. It absolutely infuriates me. Rather than face the bitter, humiliating prospect of defeat, I choose not to play. It’s the easiest way out. And if I am forced to play anything, whether it be bowling, pool, or golf, I use ignorance to my advantage. Ignorant losers are better than educated losers.
Since I honestly don’t know how to play much of anything (and I make sure to keep it that way), I feel ‘excused’ not to win. Even when people insist on teaching me things, I try hard not to try very hard. I feign stupidity, slowness, inefficiency, clumsiness, lack of understanding. On purpose I pay little attention to what I’m being taught so that I’ll remain a beginner forever.
It’s okay for beginners to lose. They’re neither looked down upon nor ridiculed because they have so little experience. When people ask me if I’ve ever tried this, that, or the other, I always give them the innocent look of bewilderment. Men especially love it when they see they’ve got something to teach you. It makes them feel confident, superior, manly. I like to play along, acting like a naive, inexperienced young maiden eager and curious to learn about a novel experience in the hands of an experienced gentleman.
Ah, pretense. The only way to hide your wickedness from the rest of the world. I always thought I could have made a good actress.
The Pretending Game December 31, 2007
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