Asking The Right Questions

Some people have the talent to ask all the wrong questions and I have a habit of answering a question straight as it was asked.

My one window is about one meter from the neighbor’s fence and a few months ago he hollered across the fence asking me if I know the time. I said I don’t know what the time is. I heard him mumbling some abuse as he walked back into his home. The next day he would not greet me.

On the third day I tackled the bull by the horns and walked around to him, asking him what’s his beef with me. He said I refused to tell him the time.

“I did no such thing”, I said. “I answered your question very truthfully. I did not know the time. I suppose I could have looked on my watch, but that was not what you asked for.”

Then he saw the light. “Man, you knew what I meant”, he retorted.

“No”, I said. “I did not know what you meant. You asked the wrong question and now you are upset with me because I answered it correctly. Had you asked for the time, I would certainly have told you.”

He looked at me with a half-grin and said: “Man, you just want to talk shit again. Come inside, my beer is getting warm.” We sat there with a beer each and laughed about the incident.

But that is the way I am. I ask questions direct and to the point. Badly worded questions like “Do you know the time?”, May I ask your name?”, “What’s the time in there?” and the likes of it, will always get a shitty reply from me.

Only my mother could get away with ‘Do you know the time?’ It was not a question; it was a statement and it was always met with the same response. I would say “Yes mom” and head straight for bed. She did not tolerate my BS and even then I knew what was good for me.

May this day turn out wonderful.