Last year a work friend came to a Sox game with me and my peoples because I had an extra ticket and she's a huge fan. Sometime during that night she apparently got the impression that I lead a wild and crazy life, because every so often she alludes to all the debauchery that I must be up to. I'm always like, "I don't know what you're talking about, Work Friend," but she seems to think that I'm being coy rather than honest. Recently we were trying to figure out a day to go for a beer and apps after work, and while comparing our day planners she said, "Well, we definitely can't do it on a Friday, because knowing you, you're doing something far more exciting." What, at four in the afternoon? Then she turned to the person with us and said, "This girl is always up to something!"
To prove to her that my Fridays are not just for heroin binges and bank robbing, we went out this afternoon. At one point she asked what my big weekend plans were. I told her I was babysitting my godsiblings, and now I know what they mean when they refer to someone's face falling. She looked like a six-year-old who just found out there's no Santa. Or Disney World.
I don't know that she'll ever look at me with the same misplaced reverence again, but I'm a little relieved. It's kind of exhausting to be so scandalous in someone else's imagination.