Topher Secret #1: You're Pretty

As a child, my parents taught me that it is impolite to call people stupid, regardless of how idiotic they may actually be. I was told "if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." Apparently it is this thing called "manners" that has seemed to completely slip by me over the years. I'm not saying I'm an asshole . . . all the time . . . but rather then speaking my mind in every situation, I developed a way of saying something nice since it was one of my options. See Mom, I do listen to you.

One such phrase I developed was to replace "you're stupid" with "you're pretty." I find that it has a nice ring to it, plus people love being called pretty over stupid. I would like to go on record and say that I don't think my friends are idiots. If I did, we wouldn't be friends in the first place. I just think my friends do dumb things, and rather then chastise them for it, I give them a compliment.

Take my friend Diamond for an example. I call her one of my "Molly Mormon" friend's because of her innocence. Diamond's version of swearing is: "Oh phooey, I burnt the darn muffins." This type of behavior would be acceptable for people who have small children, but seeing how she is in fact childless, I chalk it up to her naivety. Rather then call her naive, I say, "you're pretty." Which is always met with a: "thank you." Adorable, right?

One day we had just finished seeing a movie, and I was driving her back to her apartment. Not knowing where I was going, I asked her for directions. She proceeded to guide me back to her place, not with verbal directions, but with visual cues. Instead of saying, "turn right at the next light," I would get, "turn there," with a pointed finger. This was fine (and rather comical) until we had to change freeways.

"You need to do one of these," she exclaimed with enthusiasm.

I glanced over expecting to see her pointing right or left, but was met with something that completely baffled my mind. She had her finger pointed down at a 90 degree angle and started circling the air in a clockwise rotation.

"I need to do what now," I asked without the slightest idea of what she was pantomiming to me.

"You know, a whirly woo," she replied.

My eyes immediately lit up. "A what?"

"You know."

"No I don't know. A what now?"

"A whirley woo," she said with more hand gestures.

There was really only one thing I could do. I turned my head towards her, and in the kindest tone I could muster, I said, "You're pretty."

Diamond didn't realize what I really meant until a month later when my best friend Stephanie threw me right under the bus, and told her what I was really saying when I called her pretty. Diamond walked right up to me, stared me in the face, and slapped my arm as hard as she could.

"How dare you call me stupid," she cried.

"What are you talking about," I asked, rubbing my arm.

"Stephanie told me what you really mean when you call me pretty all the time."

"That's not true," I exclaimed.

"So you're not calling me stupid?"

"Oh no I am, just not all the time."

She slapped my arm again and stormed off the other direction.

I admit that this may not be the best thing to do to people, and I should probably revert back to the not saying anything at all method. But I will say this; if I have ever used this phrase on you and you didn't catch on . . . . You're pretty.