The Best Lie I Ever Told
Like most people, I've told a lot of lies. There are the little ones, "Yes honey, it's totally her fault. I don't understand why she's being such a bitch." or "Yes, my name really is Turk Mannington." And then there are the larger ones, "You know, I could totally have caught that off a toilet seat. " and "Don't worry, it's not loaded." Some of these lies may have been unethical, some of them may have saved my life. And many of them got me laid. And that's okay.
But there's also the best lie I ever told. One St. Patrick's Day, a few years ago, I was walking across Boston Common with the lovely Mrs. Manion. And I walked into a tree. It was cold and windy, okay? As disappointed as I know you're going to be, I was sober on St. Paddy's day.
This tree had a broken branch right at face level, and sketched a very impressive and jagged cut for several inches across my left cheek. Although at the time it hurt like hell, I decided to make the cut work for me.
That Monday, I went into work and told people that I had been in a bar fight. Every time I told the story I made it more preposterous. By the end, I was swinging bar stools and getting tossed out plate glass windows. I figured someone would call me on it, but no one did. Pretty soon the rumors were even better than my versions. I particularly liked the one where I got roughed up by a member of the New England Patriots.
It had the result of making my coworkers fear me. And when you're a tech writer who constantly needs answers to complex questions, fear is an excellent motivator. I'd just slide into a developer's cube and say "So explain the object creation scripts to me." As usual, the developer would start to complain about being busy. Then I'd make a suggestion.
"Hey, why don't we talk about it after work over beers. I know a great bar is Southie. They just remodelled, too. You can meet my drinking buddies. Except for Carl. But he's going to make bail eventually. And that's a good thing. 'Cause I owe him for this!" And then I'd stroke the cut menacingly.
And then the developer would suddenly have lots of time to answer my questions! It was great. Of course, all good things must come to an end. Eventually the cut healed, and didn't even leave a scar. I was crushed.
I've thought about trying to recreate the cut, maybe with a houseplant, or something less painful than a tree, but so far all I've managed to do is piss off the local florist. I'm not giving up hope, though.
But there's also the best lie I ever told. One St. Patrick's Day, a few years ago, I was walking across Boston Common with the lovely Mrs. Manion. And I walked into a tree. It was cold and windy, okay? As disappointed as I know you're going to be, I was sober on St. Paddy's day.
This tree had a broken branch right at face level, and sketched a very impressive and jagged cut for several inches across my left cheek. Although at the time it hurt like hell, I decided to make the cut work for me.
That Monday, I went into work and told people that I had been in a bar fight. Every time I told the story I made it more preposterous. By the end, I was swinging bar stools and getting tossed out plate glass windows. I figured someone would call me on it, but no one did. Pretty soon the rumors were even better than my versions. I particularly liked the one where I got roughed up by a member of the New England Patriots.
It had the result of making my coworkers fear me. And when you're a tech writer who constantly needs answers to complex questions, fear is an excellent motivator. I'd just slide into a developer's cube and say "So explain the object creation scripts to me." As usual, the developer would start to complain about being busy. Then I'd make a suggestion.
"Hey, why don't we talk about it after work over beers. I know a great bar is Southie. They just remodelled, too. You can meet my drinking buddies. Except for Carl. But he's going to make bail eventually. And that's a good thing. 'Cause I owe him for this!" And then I'd stroke the cut menacingly.
And then the developer would suddenly have lots of time to answer my questions! It was great. Of course, all good things must come to an end. Eventually the cut healed, and didn't even leave a scar. I was crushed.
I've thought about trying to recreate the cut, maybe with a houseplant, or something less painful than a tree, but so far all I've managed to do is piss off the local florist. I'm not giving up hope, though.
posted by Lance Manion at 11:57 AM
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