What I do best in life is to pretend that I know what they are talking about, especially when it comes to something that the person speaking to me thinks I should know without hesitation. It happens that I do not like to disappoint – because of guilt – and I do not like to seem disappointed – because of shame. That is why I also handle the variant of embedding unknown information and pretending I already knew it before, of course, without flinching while listening. I have extensive experience in it and I can prove it.
Think of that girl you met at camp or on a summer trip or something like that, and the second time you talked to her you were already deeply in love. Let’s think about that heartbreaker moment, when in the middle of a conversation anyone slipped with elegance, as if nothing, a light but definitive reference to his boyfriend, and you pretended that what he had said did not matter, even if he had just nailed you in the chest a stake. You kept the same grimace and the same gesture, the same pibardo smile, you pretended a tactical indifference destined to defeat and failure and pretended you already knew, in short, that this girl had a boyfriend beforehand.
The art of pretending to know
You could say that I was an actor in that, in assuming the fiasco. I do not like to disappoint and it still happens to me now, it may be, when they tell me about a movie that I should have seen and have not seen, or about a group that I should have listened to and have not heard, or about a terrific footballer that I should know and at most it sounds like something to me. Just in case I say yes to everything or if it comes down to it, I don’t say anything. If they tell me that they liked my novel a lot, when I have not written any novel, I dissimulate without objecting. If they tell me that they read me in a newspaper that no longer exists, and in which I used to work, I thank you and do not add anything. If they tell me that Barça can still win the League, with the green shoots and various merits, I nod and also recover the stake in my heart and the stupid smile of pibardo.
I’m also beginning to suspect that I’m not the only one pretending to know things. The other night they explained on TV that Son, the Levante footballer, is called like that because when he was little they called him Cabesón when he played in the square. Until then I thought that Son He was a foreign player, but you can see that he was not. I told some friends and it turns out that they already knew, or so they said, that they still did not want to disappoint me. I had also read that they arrested some thieves in Valencia who used the so-called method Ronaldinho.
In case someone does not know – and does not mind admitting it – this technique consists of starting to talk about football to the victim as a distraction maneuver to end up stealing whatever it is. It’s funny because it’s exactly the same thing I’ve been doing with this scam column for a lot of years, taking advantage of the confusion with imaginary dribbles, but that’s not the issue we’re dealing with now. The point is that I also told it, about the method Ronaldinho, and they knew it, or so they said. Surely everyone also knew that this girl already had a boyfriend.
Between all that and the times I want to say yes but I get to say no without being able to avoid it, and vice versa, I no longer know what I want or who I am or whether to tell it. I do not want to disappoint or seem disappointed, that never, and I do not want to take away the illusion of anyone, that either, so it is better to appear lacking.