The Pointless Truth

“uhhh..can I get a medium decaf coffee, please.”

“You mean a grande? I don’t have a….”

I live in the heart of hip Portland. But I still like going to starbucks. It’s where my dad always stopped growing up. Sometimes he’d treat me to a warm mocha on cold days.

No matter how often I go I won’t speak their language. I know it. But I won’t say it.

So a polite correction of my “small” or “medium” order ensues. It’s harmless. More importantly, it’s pointless.

Corrections to trivial facts that don’t matter are so common. It’s possible I’m the biggest offender. I can even find a way to do it to myself.

“I actually bumped into him last week. On Tuesday. on Wednesday. Maybe. No it was Tuesday.”

Hate your friends? Try doing that a lot.

When someone’s wrong and it doesn’t matter. Let it go.

The next time my wife tells our dinner company how we binge watched house of cards over the past weekend and my heart yearns to set the truth free … instead i’ll let my relationship with everyone go free. By keeping that pesty correction to myself.

No one cares to know it was actually on Wednesday. One day. And not a weekend.

Except me. Just a little bit. Ok, a lot.