Eveline de Klerk
ANY intelligent person would tell you not to judge a book by its cover. However, I think many of you do it and pass good or bad judgement. I recently realised – in a rather strange way – that a white lie is necessarily not harmless and can definitely leave a bad taste behind.
I learned this in a very humoristic way when my much-loved little white lie and joke about myself backfired ludicrously.
As a journalist I have found myself many a time in awkward moments but handled matters quite well. Recently it was quite the opposite.
I had to fill in a document for some investment I am planning.
Just as I handed back the form to the assistant, she enquired whether I was married.
I replied in the affirmative and said it’s a long story. It was obviously a lie, but I knew where it was heading to, judging from her facial expression and I certainly was not in a mood to explain to her why my surname is De Klerk.
To my surprise the assistant walked over to another assistant and loudly without shame told her colleague in Afrikaans that I, after securing a rich white man, could not even keep the marriage afloat.
Apparently she did not see a wedding band on my ring finger, which supposedly means “my marriage is in trouble, over, or I must be ashamed of my old husband”.
I don’t want to go into further detail but she made it clear that she does not have any empathy with “my kind of woman” who take their husbands for granted.
I listened without them realising that I am actually fluent in Afrikaans and unable to decide whether I should laugh, throw my toys out of my cot or tell them the truth that I am not a troubled married woman after all. And that it is just a little white lie I tell people to avoid questions regarding my surname.
One thing I however realised is that my innocent joke backfired badly to my embarrassment.
However, I got myself together and uttered “thank you very much” in an educated Afrikaner accent and left the complex.
The joke is gone for now, but the surname stays. I mean it was instrumental in getting me my first real job. Besides, removing it would mean erasing my childhood memories and upbringing.