This is part of a series* called Why I’m an idiot, in which I openly admit all my flaws in hopes of becoming a better person. Or something.
I am gullible.
There is no roundabout way of saying it. I just am.
And I know I have plenty of character traits that I am not so fond of… Actually, make thatall of my character traits, for the most part. I know that makes me sound all self-deprecating and whatnot, but it’s true. And of the multitude of crappy traits, how easily (and embarrassingly) tricked I am probably tops the chart of Erica’s Least Favourite Things About Herself.
Yes, I was that kid who actually thought she was the millionth visitor of a website. And damnit, I wanted to claim my prize. And yes, I may or may not have crashed a few dozen desktop computers downloading programs that other kids claimed would make me rich on Habbo Hotel, but I would never admit that I was so easily fooled by their tricks.
In the age of Craigslist killers and potential zombie apocalypses, my gullibility pretty much guarantees that I won’t ever get thrown an “Over the Hill” surprise party. In fact, if my life was a horror film, I’d probably be the stupid teenage girl that decides to go exploring in the basement of an abandoned house alone during a thunderstorm in search of supposed “lost treasure,” only to be the first one offed by the giant man-eating monster (note: no one will feel sorry for me because I was the Gullible One).
Even my mom thinks it. Just yesterday, my mom begged and pleaded with me not to go downtown alone because she feared Luka Magnotta would chop me up and eat me.
“You’re too gullible, too innocent,” she said (I think she may have been crying). “I DON’T NEED YOU TO DIE ON ME NOW!!!!!”
My brilliant comeback? “I’m a journalist, Mom! I don’t fall for anything! I always fact-check! Everything must come straight from the horse’s mouth! Other overused clichés!”
(Note: she didn’t buy it.)
My girlfriend also likes to tease me about it. She jokes that the moment I stop falling for her “hey-what’s-that-on-your-shirt-then-bump-your-nose” trick is the moment she’ll fall in love with me. (I should probably get on that.)
Maybe my gullibility is charming, or cute, or something. Or maybe it’s just another reason for me to hate myself.
(It’s probably the latter. I think I’m okay with that.)
*n.b. This probably won’t be an actual series. I’m bad with consistency (yet another of my unfavourable traits).