Oxy-Morons

As someone in my obscenely late early 30’s, one of the life truths I’ve come to know is that, all too often, people aren’t the façade they present to the world.

Occasionally, that’s a good thing.

From a very macho Italian guy from the Bronx, who I worked with until recently:

“I used to man the men’s room at a strip club from noon to 4. Couldn’t start earlier, ‘cause I took ballet classes in the morning.”

 

Mostly, it’s not.

From a lovely, spiritual goddess type I got to know in a week-long personal growth seminar:

“My brother just doesn’t get it – he is so unenlightened. So I tried to have him killed.”

From an extended family member, who lived with me and who I didn’t know was an alcoholic:

“Yes, that’s vodka in the toilet bowl. I didn’t think you’d look in there.”

From a high-level executive and family man at the company I used to work for:

(looking out his office window with binoculars as his employees walk by the office) God, there are some HOT women in that building!

From a female friend who’s a senior HR executive at a global company:

“Our president bet me that I wouldn’t make out with this woman in sales, so I did. I won fifty bucks.”

From a woman I worked with who embezzled almost a million dollars:

(to the judge) “I wanted to get cornrows, and those are expensive. And then, you know, you just get carried away.” (She was white, which makes it even worse.)