I don't do lies. Those that know me know that its a flaw. I genuinely can't tell a direct lie. I stammer. I blush. I do all the body language things that scream "I AM LYING TO YOU" I can't lie.
This is a problem for me. You see, when I realised that my lying skills were so poor I gave up trying. Which has led to more than one awkward moment in that pre-going-out moment:
She: "So do you like my new outfit?"
Me: "Its certainly a new look"
She: "But do you like it?"
Me: "Its got a certain je ne sais pas about it"
She: (tersely) "A simple Yes or No will do..."
Me: ...
Me: "No"
Which, as every human male on the face of the planet knows, is always and without fail the WRONG answer.
I told a lie tonight. The trick this time is that I didn't know I was telling a lie until just now. Here's the conversation:
Concerned parent: "So you're still determined to go to Canada after christmas?"
Me: "Yes. Absolutely."
CP: "But what happens if something goes wrong? You'll be all alone out there."
Me: "Well, they speak English (I'm not going to Montreal), the health service is better than ours, and anyway - I'm meeting some people while I'm over there" (TRUE)
CP: "But what about the skiing? Think of your back..."
Me: "Ah well, I think I'll probably just enjoy the atmosphere. I'll leave the boots behind" (TRUE. At the time...)
Now, when I said that, I genuinely meant it. Then I looked at this with the sun shining over virgin snow and realised I'd told a lie the brazeness of which would make Dubya and little Tony Blair blush. Oh well.
