Anyone who preaches, “honesty is the best policy,” ironically, is lying. That statement is erroneous malarkey, essentially advising people to thoroughly sabotage every last human connection they’ve ever had, hurting feelings and becoming a widely despised individual because they followed a socially detrimental policy. Imagine the types of conversations you’d have in common scenarios, speaking pure, unadulterated honesty.
You run into Person You Weren’t Close To, But Know From High School in the grocery store.
Person You Weren’t Close To, But Know From High School: Hey!
Person You Weren’t Close To, But Know From High School: This is crazy, I haven’t seen you in so long!
You: Yeah, I mean, we weren’t really like, friends or anything, so not seeing each other isn’t “crazy,” per se. In fact, I think you could argue that it makes a ton of sense and, had we not run into each other right here, it’s more than feasible that we could’ve gone the rest of our lives not seeing each other, or even remembering that one another exist.
Person You Weren’t Close To, But Know From High School: Um, I suppose so… Anyway, what’s new?
You: Since it has been nine years since I last saw your face, it’d be somewhat difficult to recall precisely what’s “new.” Also, you don’t have any previous knowledge of my past to compare my current p to, so that’s a rather silly question, y’know?
Person You Weren’t Close To, But Know From High School: Sure, I guess it was… Well, it’s good to see you, take care.
You: It’s unmoving to see you, but you take care as well.
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old calls you and passes along an invitation to their kid’s first birthday.
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: So my baby turns one in a month and I wanted to invite you to his/her very first birthday party!
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: Will you be there?
You: No, absolutely not.
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: Huh?
You: No way. I don’t want to go to your one-year-old’s birthday party at all.
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: Wow, well fine, never mind then.
You: You’re not upset, are you?
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: I just think it was a bit rude, the way you rejected that invitation.
You: You’re probably right, it was impolite to turn it down so quickly, but I didn’t want to give you any false hope or make you like, buy too many hotdog buns because you were anticipating me being there.
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: Well, why can’t you go?
You: I have plans to relax and do nothing that day.
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: I haven’t even told you the date yet.
You: Trust me, it doesn’t matter what day it is. It’s nothing personal. Your baby is actually super chill, I just don’t feel like going, and that’s not going to change by next month.
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: Wow.
You: Post pictures of the party on Facebook though! I’ll ‘like’ them and comment, “I wish I could’ve made it!”
Friend Who Is The Parent Of An 11-Month Old: Go f–k yourself.
You run into Friend You’ve Grown Apart From who wants to make plans to catch up and get coffee soon.
Former Co-Worker: Oh my God, we HAVE TO catch up. Let’s make plans to get coffee soon!
You: Sure, I’ll make vague plans to go get coffee. Just be forewarned, I’m not actually going to follow through on them, but we can pretend if it’ll make you feel better.
Former Co-Worker: Oh, well never mind, I just thought we could grab Starbucks this weekend, if you wanted to.
You: Yes! I’m off Saturday. How’s 1:30 sound?
Former Co-Worker: That works for me! 1:30 it is!
Former Co-Worker: See you Saturday.
You: (winking) Suuure, see you Saturday.
Former Co-Worker: Wait, what was that?
You: What was what?
Former Co-Worker: The winking, “suuure” thing. Are we on for Saturday, or what?
You: Of couuurse. Saaaaturday. (more winking)
Former Co-Worker: Dude, do you want to get coffee or not?
You: Absoluuutely, sounds greeeat! Saturday at 1:30! (continued winking)
Former Co-Worker: Fine, whatever. Have a good one, a–hole.
You: You too. Can’t wait to see you Saaaturday! (uncontrollably winking)
Neglected Person You’re Dating calls your phone, hoping to make plans with you.
Neglected Person You’re Dating: It has been three weeks since you’ve seen me, can we please do something tonight?
You: No, I don’t feel like it.
Neglected Person You’re Dating: Well you haven’t wanted to do anything in weeks, and I want to get out tonight.
You: You should get out, but still a definite no for me.
Neglected Person You’re Dating: That’s so selfish, it’s not all about you.
You: You’re right.
Neglected Person You’re Dating: So you’ll go out with me tonight?
You: No, but you are right about this being selfish of me.
Neglected Person You’re Dating: I think we should take time apart.
You: Like, disassemble a watch? Nah, that’s weird, but I’m going to watch movies if you want to come do that.
Neglected Person You’re Dating: I need some space.
You: Sounds good, I have Gravity and Interstellar on Blu-Ray. See you later.
Neglected Person You’re Dating: [Hangs up phone, never speaks to you again.]
The hypothetical train wreck scenarios scripted above give you an idea of how the conversations would play out in all likelihood, which means that out of all of the policies, honesty is amongst the worst of them, socially. What anyone associated with a homebody should know is that endless fabrications and habitual lying aren’t a pathological, worrisome thing – it’s done for the sake of others’ feelings. Homebodies are figurative dentists, pulling plugs on plans like cavities, but first we want to sedate you with goofy gas and numb your mind with white lies before we yank out those teeth.