“A question is a trap and an answer is your foot in it.”
In Steinbeck’s words:
I never liked questions. The teacher used to ask me questions, as well as my mom, my dog, and my wife. Sometimes I go out for breakfast to avoid arguments with my wife Elaine. Or was it Carol? On second thought, I used to do that with both of them.
Anyways, there’s a diner around the curb of my house in Pacific Grove. I never had a really good dinner there or a really bad breakfast. That’s why I tend to have breakfast there, and sometimes I skip dinner in order to skip arguments with my wife. You don’t have to be full all the time. Sometimes Elaine / Carol / Gwyn used to ask me if I had dinner; a question is a trap and an answer is your foot in it. I use to tell her that I’m not hungry, she tells me: “you haven’t eaten for three days, how come you’re not hungry?” I tell her: “I’m doing cocaine.” That usually doesn’t end well, but if I’m not mistaken, it is better than telling her that I am trying to avoid her. Now she’s suspicious that I’m not on cocaine and that I’m having dinner with someone else.
I’ll tell you one thing though: A marriage is like a journey; the certain way to be wrong is to think you control it. Shit.
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