Unless you work for the CIA, or the KGB, or the MI6, there is no reason why you can’t be open about what you do for a living.
Some people haw and hum when asked how they are doing. They seem evasive and secretive.
Quite a few others seem to give me that impression nowadays.
What happened to straight talk?
Not that I was probing but I’ve come across several people who can’t seem to tell a straight story when I enquired as to what they do for a living.
Maybe these people thought I didn’t deserve their attention.
Maybe they were of the opinion that I wasn’t worthy of their time.
Obviously they weren’t keen to kibitz with me.
Obviously they didn’t want to schmooze with me.
Obviously I’m too far down the food chain.
Obviously they have something to hide?
Or something they are not proud of?
Once A told me he was going on to the US for a couple of weeks.
“Wassup?” I asked.
“Holiday, holiday lah,” he said.
I found out later that he was a member of a church choir that was being invited to sing in a church in the States. He was ashamed to tell me the truth because the A I knew had never exhibited one itsy bitsy iota of Christian behavior – most of the time he was talking about seducing people’s wives. His specialty was young mothers.
“Oh those young mothers, they’re so gooood…” he would coo.
Once when asked, B vaguely told me he was into “internet-related ventures” but when pressed further he became evasive.
I found out later that he was into cyber squatting and “internet marketing” – translation: spamming.
He was also a “Search Engine Optimizer” and made a lot of money, but we all know that those in the SEO business are constructing houses on beds of sand.
Once C told me his son-in-law’s company was involved in “engineering” – I found out later that they fix toilet doors for condos.
Once D told me her wedding gown was ordered from “overseas” – I later found out that she went to a neighboring country for her gown.
Once E told me he lives near a park, in a “private property” – I later found out that he lived near “People’s Park” which is in Chinatown and his house was a dwelling above a row of shop houses.
Once F told me that her dad was into “marketing” – I later found out that he was a pork seller in a wet market.
I could go on, and on.
The thing is there’s nothing wrong singing in a choir even though you talk about sex all the time, there’s nothing wrong if you conduct spamming campaigns for companies, there’s nothing wrong if your son-in-law is in the toilet door business, there’s nothing wrong if you buy your wedding gown from Johor, there’s nothing wrong living in an apartment above a shop house and there’s nothing wrong if your dad is a butcher.
Yes, there’s nothing wrong because – to be honest – I don’t give a rat’s ass what you do because I don’t judge you based on where you travel to, or what your son-in-law does, or where your daughter shops or where you live or what your father does for a living.
But I do form an opinion of you if you can’t talk straight.