The Problem With Fishing For Compliments...
Is that you usually end up reeling in a big, whopping dis.
A couple of years ago at a diner--oh, hush, you have to eat somewhere--I spotted a guy dutifully reading my column at another table.
Anxious to be anointed with all kinds of praise, I raced up to him and gurgled, "Hey! That's me!"
"Huh?" he responded.
"That's my column you're reading!" I explained. "I'm Michael Musto!"
"Oh," he said, not overly impressed as he distractedly returned to his omelette.
"So are you enjoying it?" I begged, with a nervous giggle. "Not the omelette--I mean the column!"
Pause.
"Eh," he said as if shooting daggers through my skull.
I never fished for a compliment again.
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