Better in print

I've long known that I am better in print than I am in person. I pen touching love notes that deftly ignore the fact of my lousy loving. I email words of advice and wisdom omitting all the ums and uhs of my speech that usually discount any impression of worldliness. And when I write a punchline, I can appear timely and sharp. If only the reader suffered like Rachel through my every iteration.

In an age of constant confession and endless documentation, I am still best suited by inauthenticity. I spin when no one is looking. I edit when no one is reading. I bear false witness for the sheer craft of it.

But when the time comes for actual speaking. In the flesh, out loud, right here and now speaking. I am flummoxed. I spit out ums. I take long pauses. I dart my eyes to find my misplaced thoughts. I appear to lie when telling the simplest truths. 'Yes,' I finally cough, 'I have completed that, um, project. Can I, uh, send you an email about the details?'