One of the great mysteries of life is why we choose to believe certain stories we hear while rejecting others. Certainly, one method we use to determine the validity of a story is the source from which we receive it. Another factor we consider is the amount of information we have to support the story even if that mass is just as fallacious as the original. Without a doubt it helps if the story fits with what our view or assumptions are about the situation or the individuals involved. Lately, some of the sources that report events have taken to fact checking. Unfortunately, when an adolescent is exposed to a tantalizing story about his peers there usually isn’t someone in the halls or on the playground checking the facts. So, for example, when a friend, who is just as hormonal as the rest of the junior high school male population and equally prone to wildly delusional images of eroticism states without equivocation that a certain girl who just recently has appeared on everyone’s radar is easy there is no one for you to turn to for statistical data to support the assertion. This dilemma was hard at work when someone, and for the life of me I’m not sure whether that someone had an extra X or Y chromosome, told me that Doris, better known as Kitty, liked me. Let’s be clear, while I was thrilled to hear of this revelation I had only recently become familiar with who this girl was, had never taken a single class together with her, did not know if we had any mutual friends, and of course had never spoken to her. Still, it was nice to know she cared. Now, while I can’t be sure where Kitty first saw me I know I first saw her and spoke with her in the school auditorium, where they showed movies during the lunch period. These movies were particularly popular during inclement weather, and in Wisconsin this can become a fairly regular occurrence. During the movie she sat with her friends and I sat with mine, but afterwards we’d talk before heading to class. Then, it happened. I should have seen it coming, but I’m afraid she caught me totally unprepared. Perhaps, it’s just that girls mature earlier than boys, but she took the bold step of asking me if I wanted to come over to her house after school. Rather than just saying yes, which is what I probably wanted to do, or finding some feasible reason to decline I just went blank and stared. Our romance was over before it began. Weeks later, when I learned she was going steady with Roger I didn’t want to believe it, but then I saw them together after school and his arm was draped over her shoulders. Rumors flew, and even Shotsie, who knew a lot about what was happening between different couples, would neither confirm nor deny that they were doing it. One story claimed Kitty had to wash sheets to get rid of his pubic hairs. That one was too much for me. I had to know. I still remember looking in the mirror in the locker room and Roger smiling at his own image while combing his blonde wavy locks. Then, he casually glanced over at my reflection and said, “Come on, you’re an intelligent guy.” Exactly, that’s why I want to know where the fact checker is hiding when you have to be sure to draw the right conclusion.
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