People think I’m nice. And I am. Really! I say “please” and “thank you” on a regular basis. I greet people as I pass them on the street. I curtail my explicit language around kids and the elderly. I hold doors for people. I smile. I do all these things sincerely, and with an honest heart. And I behave this way gladly.
But I am more than my nice behavior. I do cuss like a sailor and I often have filthy thoughts. To wit: the other morning I was waiting for the bus and saw a couple across the street. They were holding hands. She was a petite and fit gal, and he was hulking and morbidly obese. Of the millions of thoughts I could have had, only this one fired through my brain-hole: that poor gal always has to be on top.
A few hours later, I was watching some World Cup action at a bar. Seated between two dudes I didn’t know, I was minding my own business. But then I forgot to only think my thoughts. In response to a crazy play in that match I said, right out loud, “Why doesn’t that guy just go ahead and give him a hand-job? He’s halfway there already!” I heard myself speaking and turned to the dude on my left. He held his beer a few inches from his mouth, seemingly stuck, and looked at me, shocked. I did the only thing I could. I looked him square in the eye and said, “Sorry, man. I forgot I was in public.” Then I went back to watching the match.
I had a few other – let’s call them – moments that day. These are merely the cleanest. No one was hurt. No one was offended enough to let me have it, and life was fine.
Some days I’m better than others. And that may mean upstanding, or it may mean down and dirty. Depends on my mood. The truth is, most of us think things we wouldn’t want the world to know. Some of us actually say those things. And sometimes, some of us gauge the situation and do the best we can.
For me, my best runs the gamut. Righteous to raunchy. I wouldn’t have it any other way.