Have you ever had a conversation with someone where no matter what you say, you are wrong? Not just occasionally mistaken, not just slightly off—no, no. You are dead wrong every single time. You could say, “The sun rises in the east,” and they’d hit you with, “Actually, it rises wherever it wants to, depending on perspective.” And the best part? The moment you challenge their logic, they hit you with The Phrase:
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
Oh, really? Because it sure seems like you just were arguing with me, but now that I’m expecting you to back up your nonsense, you’re suddenly uninterested in discussion. Fascinating.
Let’s take my latest foray into this mental gymnastics tournament. I have a couple of leaks in my house that are not just mildly annoying but actively running up my water bill like it’s training for a marathon. Since I am currently unemployed, I want to get them fixed without emptying my bank account for the privilege of indoor plumbing. Simple, right?
I call a plumber. He quotes me $425 to replace a tub spout, a bathroom sink faucet, and a kitchen sink faucet. I think, “Yikes, okay, let’s see if I can do better.” Enter my sister. She knows a guy. He’s probably not licensed (red flag, but desperate times). He says he can come the next day. I send my address a bit late because I wasn’t sure if my sister had provided him with it. I’ll admit it was an afterthought.
The next day arrives. Crickets.
Nothing. No call, no text, no smoke signal. Just me and my steadily increasing water bill. So I vent to someone about it:
“This is why I don’t like asking for help. They let me down. So, I guess I’ll have to go with the expensive plumber since the other guy ghosted me.”
Seems reasonable, yes? Oh, honey chile… Of course I am wrong. Because now this person informs me that I shouldn’t go with the expensive plumber. Apparently, I should just… wait? Indefinitely? Until Mr. No-Call-No-Show decides to grace me with his presence? Maybe set up a shrine in my bathroom and hope he feels like working one day?
When I ask how, exactly, I’m wrong here, they hit me with a philosophical gem like, “Well, maybe he was busy.” Oh, was he? Too busy to send a single message saying, “Hey, I can’t make it?” Too busy to communicate at all? I see. So his lack of professionalism is understandable, but I’m the problem for expecting basic communication? Got it.
At this point, I realize that reality is not a shared experience. In their world, the plumber could never be unreliable—I’m just impatient. The sky is green. The ocean is dry. I should just wait for someone who doesn’t value my time because that’s the reasonable thing to do.
And when I refuse to accept this ridiculous take?
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
Ah, yes. The conversational equivalent of flipping the table and walking away. Because when faced with logic, the only way out is to simply not participate.
So, here I am, once again, completely wrong for expecting a professional to act professionally. For expecting a plumber to, you know, show up. For thinking my own decision about my house and my finances particularly when it comes to the bills I pay… should be up to me.
Silly me. I should’ve just waited forever.
