My first “big” relationship was with a girl I was obsessed with. Ooooh she was so pretty, and smart, and fun, and I liked her and she liked ME!
She was the freshman year of college girl (that old story).
When summer hit I went back to Arizona by way of a cruelly long drive (Texas, why do you take so long to drive out of?). Not long after returning home my Dad’s side of the family headed to northern Arizona for a bit of cooler weather.
“My girl” was scheduled to visit, which the family learned. Naturally, questions would come.
Here’s the tricky part, though. The questions didn’t come at once in a 5-on-1 interview, instead it was a series of 1-on-1 interviews where you get asked the same questions over, and over, and over again.
Eventually, I gave up on the truth.
“What’s she studying?”
“She’s getting a duel degree, one in Econ and the other in Home Studies.”
A subtle lie. Majoring in Home-Ec, how is that not funny?
I’m such a nerd.
“What’s she look like?”
“Mostly short. That’s the first thing I notice about her. Very compact. She can fit most anywhere, really.”
The lies were starting to stretch.
“What’s she like?”
“She likes dancing. She just … God! When she dances, the world dances with her!”
By the time the last relative questioned me they could tell I was lying by about ten words into my first answer.
Sure, it was obnoxious of me to give fake answers. But I knew they were drinking and weren’t going to remember anyway, so why bother with the truth when lying would at least keep me entertained. This way, at least one of us remembered the conversation.