Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so dashingly handsome and intelligent.
Actually, I have no issues with my level of handsomeness. However, I do wish I was slightly dumber, so that I wouldn’t have so many issues interacting with stupid people.
See, there are two types of smart: Street smarts and book smarts. Street smarts are for people who don’t possess book smarts, or who for some reason like to interact with others. Book smarts are for people like me, who only spend time outdoors to ponder the meaning of life and/or to appease their mothers.
My definition of street smarts is: The ability to interact with other people without being beat to a bloody pulp.
It’s easier to be street smart when you’re not book smart. Why? Because book smart people tend to over-analyse everything…Or maybe that’s just me.
Regardless, we get so caught in wondering if we’re being unintentionally rude because we’re not entirely sure how to be polite that we ignore the fact that the person we’re trying to be nice to is holding a knife longer than a Woody Allen rant. That’s the part where we get stabbed, because it turns out that we were being unintentionally rude. On the way to the hospital, we make a mental note that asking large redneck men if it is customary to kiss when greeting is a bad idea. Always.