By Timmy T. Tater, Chief Spud and Editor
The Sweet Potato
You know what I love? When people quote me saying things I never said. It’s like having a personal ghostwriter, except they’re terrible at their job and actively trying to get me fired.
I talk plenty. My mouth runs like a faucet with a broken handle. I’ve got opinions on everything from office coffee to geopolitics, and I share them liberally—sometimes too liberally, if I’m being honest. But apparently, my actual words aren’t enough. Some people feel compelled to add to my already extensive catalog of verbal mishaps.
“What you’re really saying is…” No, what I’m really saying is exactly what came out of my mouth thirty seconds ago. If I’d meant something else, I would have said something else. I’m not speaking in code. This isn’t the Da Vinci Code. There’s no hidden message encrypted in my lunch order.
The worst part? These freelance ventriloquists always make me sound worse than I actually do on my own. I’m perfectly capable of putting my foot in my mouth without assistance, thank you very much. I don’t need someone else’s foot in there too. It’s crowded enough with my own poor word choices.
“So what you meant was…” Listen, I appreciate the translation service, but I’m speaking English, and so are you. If I’d wanted to say what you’re claiming I meant, I possess the necessary vocabulary and motor skills to form those specific syllables. I’ve been talking since I was two. I’ve had practice.
And let’s talk about the motivations here. Nobody ever puts words in your mouth to make you look better. No one’s out there saying, “What Sarah really meant to say is that she’s incredibly humble and thinks everyone else deserves that promotion.” No, it’s always “What Sarah really meant is that she hates teamwork and thinks she’s better than everyone.”
I said I prefer working independently on detail-oriented tasks. Somehow that got translated into “antisocial narcissist with superiority complex.” That’s quite a linguistic journey.
The thing is, I already give people plenty of ammunition. My actual quotes are damning enough. There’s no need to fabricate additional material. I’m an open book—a book that probably should have gone through a few more edits before publication, but nonetheless, everything’s already on the page. You don’t need to add footnotes in my handwriting.
So here’s my modest proposal: Let’s make a deal. I’ll continue being responsible for all the ridiculous things that actually come out of my mouth—and there will be many—and you can stop auditioning for the role of my unofficial spokesperson.
I promise you, I’m giving you enough material to work with already. No substitutions or fabrications necessary.
Trust me, the original is bad enough.
