Red-Handed

As we were watching TV, a commercial for the new Star Trek came on. Glancing at Jube from the corners of my eyes, I said, "I think we should go see Star Trek."

Without looking at me, he said, "Okay, sure. When?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe this weekend?"

Surprised that I was following through, he turned to face me. "You really want to see it?" Poor Jube. He hates Star Trek and tries to convince himself that I don't like it as much as I do. Not only that: he thinks that the movie looks terrible, and has told me so every time we catch a trailer. Come to think of it, maybe he was trying out some preemptive strikes to keep me from broaching the topic...

"Well, yeah!" I said, "I like Star Trek!"

"I bet I know why you suddenly want to see it: You read a review on salon.com and now you want to see it."

"No, no! I just want to see it! I like science fiction!"

Grumbling, he said, "All right, maybe we'll go." He grabbed the laptop and opened it up to surf the net while I watched TV. Too late, I realized what was on the screen: a review of Star Trek.

"I knew it! I know you too well!"

"No, no, it's not what you think. It's not salon.com!"