PostSecret is a weekly blog featuring homemade postcards portraying people’s secrets. The postcards are mailed anonymously, and the secrets range from cute and funny to pathetic and heartbreaking. I stumbled across PostSecret in 2005 and became hopelessly addicted. To commemorate my six-year anniversary of PostSecret addiction and because some secrets are too awesome, crazy, or stupid to be forgotten, I am going to pick my favorite secret from the blog each Sunday and share my thoughts on it.
This week’s favorite: Buzzed Lifeguard
I’m a complete introvert when I work, which means that I am silent, sober, focused, and borderline stony. This is because I’m too unitarded to chit chat or eavesdrop when I’m trying to get shit done, which I suppose makes me seem unsociable and disconnected.
After several months at my last job, my supervisor, an extraneously chatty, personable gay man, gave me a ride from work to the MUNI station one evening. We were prattling about various insignificant things when he said, “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said warily, expecting an extra assignment for the night.
“Do you get high every morning before work?”
“Do you smoke pot every morning?”
“No,” I said, dumbfounded. “Do I look stoned?”
“Well, it’s just that I used to be a total stoner in high school,” he explained. “And I know what it looks like. You have that same look, like you’re spaced out all the time.”
I laughed in shock. “What, you think I go out back every morning and take a few hits before work?”
My supervisor laughed his high, gay laugh. “Well, sure.”
“Wow. I mean…no, I don’t.” I had no idea how else to defend myself.
“I hope you’re not offended by my question.”
“No, I’m just surprised.”
In truth, I did feel slighted insulted, a small offense sprinkled with amusement. I had felt the same way when I found out, years before, that my fat, drug dealer next door neighbor in college told everyone he had slept with me while we were coked out (he had not). And I was especially surprised because I’m not a weed smoker at all. Even when I partied like a maniac, I never smoked more than a handful of times per year, and never in the morning before work. This is not due to some moral standard but because I’m one of those people who go comatose after one hit. Some people can function high. I cannot.
In light of how certain my supervisor seemed, I don’t know if he believed me, but he never brought it up again and was nice to me until I quit a few months later. Note to self: be more personable with coworkers in the future. That or find a work environment filled with equally misanthropic people.