Dinner date in the city last night with Boots.
I am officially well fed, well watered and well exercised.
At one point in my life I was a follower of the idea of Radical Honesty , basically that (particuarly in a relationship context) a person should have absolutely no boundaries in what they say or think or disclose about themselves.
Boss asks you what you think of his tie, you gotta tell him.
Friend asks you if those jeans make her ass look fat, you gotta tell her.
Someone across the dinner table says “have you ever?”…you gotta tell them.
I’m not RH now but after a couple years of clubbing my sense of personal disclosure boundaries into submission I still occasionally stumble over those habits.
This occasionally leads me (if I like someone) to do lame stuff like blurt out the Escher-esquely complicated landscape of my love life on a third date .
Boots listened patiently, then patted me on the tummy and told me to shut up.