My Shut-up Button’s Broken

Either I don’t have one, or it’s broken. If I do have one it is definitely a malfunctioning shut-up button. I wonder if you can have it repaired, maybe have a new one put in. But I am absolutely positive my shut-up button is different somehow from everyone else’s.

Say, for example, your friend asks you how she looks in a certain outfit. If you like it, you say “I like it”. If you hate it, you say “I like it”. Maybe you sugar coat it a little instead of bold face lying, something like, “It’s not my favorite on you, but it looks good.” I don’t have that button that tells your brain to tell your mouth to lie or sugar coat. I’m missing the shut-up button. When one of my friends asks me my opinion, I always have my disclaimer. “Are you sure you want to know?” This is important because some of my friends will instantly say “No, never mind”. They know me very well. The ones who chose to live life in the fast lane, the ones who are unafraid of the danger say “Yes, tell me what you really think.” This usually ends with them not speaking to me for a couple weeks until they realize that I am just me and my button’s broken. “I hate that outfit. Your ass is too big for the pants and your top is too small for your boobs. Take it off you look like a street walker” usually sounds very harsh. But I asked you “Are you sure?” You said “Yes”. You brought this on yourself.

A lot of times though, my opinion is not asked of me, but merely pours out of me. I don’t know why it happens, it just happens. I would make apologies for it, but I can’t do it. I honestly think a lot of problems in the world would be solved if we learned to disengage our button.

I often wonder if people with no button get along with other people who have no button? Do they bond over their lack of button? Do they amuse each other with stories of being buttonless? I have met people who have a small button, but never one, like I believe myself to be, with no button what-so-ever. I have friends who are very opinionated, loud and overbearing but when asked if they like someone or something that I am very well aware they do NOT like, they still don’t tell the whole truth. This brings me to the sad conclusion that I may be all alone in this world. I may be the only buttonless person in a world filled with well-equipped buttoned people. This makes me sad and relieved all at the same time.

I wonder what is in my head that takes up the room where my button is supposed to be? If I ever get a CAT scan, what would show up? I’m tempted to tell my doctor that I have terrible migraines and I’m afraid I’m going to have an aneurism so she’ll give me a CAT scan and I can see what’s hiding in there. You know in movies when your conscience pops out as two little people. One in white, one in red, both whispering opposing viewpoints in your ears? I think my little red person got sucked in through the auditory canal in my ear and ended up in the black hole where my button is supposed to be. Is that why I can’t control it? The little person dressed in white can’t fit in there to stop him! That could be right, you don’t know, it could…and if it is you can no longer blame me for my lack of button. You must now feel very bad for me because I have a severe medical condition. We’ll call it littleredguylackabuttonitis.