Agreeable Me

Christopher has done it yet again: I leave the state and he contacts me. He did it when I was in Texas and again when I was in South Carolina. He did it about three weeks ago when I spent the weekend at the lake house, and he also did it last weekend when I was in Florida.

The last two times I sent a text back stating I was out of town and then ignored any further communication. Last night he sends me another text: Thought ud call me on my birthday.

I had completely forgotten his birthday, which was fine because I doubt I would have acknowledged it anyway. Besides, I hadn't seen him since he ruined my own birthday. I owed Christopher nothing, but I felt guilty because I was his only friend in the city and, to me, birthdays are a big deal.

But I also resented his text. It was accusatory and guilt inducing. It was too similar to the Hope your doing good e-mail I got from S. My mom encouraged me to not call him and wish him well on his birthday, but I said I wanted to be more like Harvey and just be nice and happy no matter the circumstances.

And I tried. I said "Oh, that's cool" to anything he said. Instead of poking holes through his lies, I counted them. Seven. Seven lies.

But then he turned his TV on and I could feel the skin on my arms and chest and face crawl right off my body. It is said that smell is the strongest sense that induces memory, but for me it might be sound. The sound of a beer can pop-top opening gives me chills because of S. I can't stand it. And I can distinguish the difference between coke and beer, so I know it must be psychological. With Christopher, it's that damn TV blaring in the background. Because he was unemployed the whole time I was with him, that TV would be on—loudly—for 24 hours a day. Literally. His electricity was included in his rent, so he never turned anything off on the principle that it was "free."

So he turned that TV on and once again the TV audio was louder than his voice and my voice. Something in me flipped and I could no longer be fake cheerful. Lie number eight came. Then nine.

"I bought a pair of Calvin Klein corduroys at Wal-mart, I mean Target."

"NO YOU DID NOT. TARGET DOES NOT SELL CALVIN KLEIN."

"Yes, they do. And they had my size, size 32."

He's a 36. Inhale. Exhale. I clenched my teeth, "Oh, that's cool."

Then he starts talking about his new job. As he goes through each advantage, I realize it's pyramid scheme. He's the guy that stands in front of Best Buy to try to get you to sign up for Direct TV. The more people you recruit to do this job, you receive money for every sale they make. He finishes, "They told me when they hired me last week that they want to hire college-educated people to become managers of these posts. He says I'm going to get 5 posts with people under me and I get $10 for every sale they make. I'm making sales now, but my managers are getting half of my commission."

I rolled my eyes. "So it's a pyramid scheme."

"No, it's not. I asked."

"You know who says it's not a pyramid scheme? People in pyramid schemes," I offered.

"He told me up front, on his own, that it isn't a pyramid scheme."

"Look, it's the same thing as transvestites on Jersey Shore. If you have to think about it, it's a pyramid scheme. All I'm saying is that when I sat down for my job interview, my boss did not have to explain to me that it wasn't a pyramid scheme."

"But the marketing company is called Full Circle," he protested.

"You want to know why they call it a circle? To detract from it really being a pyramid."

I could not let this go. I couldn't be like Harvey and be all I'm so glad you found a job! You rock! He lies and he lies and he lies. And when people lie to you, it's an attempt to control you. The battle I happened to pick was the damn job, at which I'm totally sure he's going to be making $220,000 a year selling Direct TV to people walking in hhgregg to buy an A/V adapter. Far be it for me to block him from is money-making destiny.

Christopher tries to change the subject. "So... who is your service provider?"

"Nope. Not going to do it." I said flatly.

"No, really I want to know."

"If you are going to ask me about this, I am going to hang up the phone."

"Ask you about what?"

"If you try to sell me Direct TV, I am going to hang up the phone."

"But you don't have to actually get it, if you could just fill out an applica-"

Click.

In an attempt to be nice, I hung up on Christopher on his birthday. So I'm not going to be on the cover of How to Win Friends and Influence People anytime soon. I want to be more agreeable like Harvey, but this is going to take some work. For now I'm disgusted that I used to have sex with someone who just tried to sell me Direct TV.

I can't be disingenuous. I'm simply going to have to be satisfied for the meantime that this is a good thing.