The Skeptic

"I don't believe in personality tests," said Matt, as we sloshed back white wine in a pub near Regents Park. "They just try to typecast people."

"Oh, but the Myers-Briggs test is really accurate."

"Perhaps." He savoured another sip of Chardonnay. "But then, I'm a Gemini, so I can't help being skeptical about things like that. You know, N is a Gemini, too. That's why I get her. As soon as I see her in class, I know exactly how she's feeling."

"Are you sure it's not because she's an INFP?"*

He ignored my comment. "Geminis are in tune with their feelings. We're not like Pisces."

"What's wrong with Pisces?"

"My dad was a Pisces."

"I'm a Pisces."

"Geminis are very honest." He looked at me sternly, as if that were a particular failing of Pisces, but he had too much Geminian delicacy to point it out. "We're also good at keeping secrets. You know, I've been wondering about you and what makes you tick."

I took another gulp...shall we say sip...of wine.

He continued, "N tells me everything. Because she knows I won't tell anyone."

"So what has she told you?"

He launched into a risque story about her ex-boyfriend.

"I was joking! Don't tell me!"

He shrugged. "Another glass of wine?"



*N's Myers-Briggs type.