I don’t hold with lying. I always say the truth is the one version of the story that never changes. I’m too lazy to remember a lie and all the intricate web that spins around it. So I usually bluntly tell the truth and let the Devil do his worse with it... at least I said what is real. I have occupied a lot of higher grounds based on that little theory.
However there are times when one simply must not tell people everything they ask to hear. A divorcee who does not wish to be perceived as callous will never tell the truth of the demise of her marriage to a child who came from it regardless of the persistence of the questions. A person who does not wish to be perceived as a show off will not tell of his good fortune just because someone asks.
Of course the sensible way to control how much truth one puts in the public arena is to simply make no comment on the subject. This works very well for celebs who find themselves hounded by the media. There are two words no journalist no mater how salacious can make a profit from “NO COMMENT”. And as wonderful as this theory is... it is ruddy useless for us ordinary folk who find ourselves in a wine bar being asked a question that we genuinely do not wish to answer.“No comment”... just doesn’t cut it there.
And I should know! You see yesterday I told a big fat hairy lie. I know... I know... lying is no big shakes for a lot of people as they lie all the time to each other and to themselves and find getting up in the morning and looking in the mirror no big deal. But for me... lying does not sit well with me and eats away at my very being. I woke up with a start as my conscience pricked away till slumber was no longer an option and it replayed the scene in my head as if looking for some opening that I missed where I could have just shut up and never said a word.
I wish to make it clear that it wasn’t an evil lie. No one will die as a consequence of the yarn I spun... but it was totally unnecessary and to be honest I should have just smiled enigmatically and said nowt. In my defense I was ½ a bottle of wine in... and I do believe there may have been a couple of cocktails... around the time it occurred to me that lying my way out of a situation was going to be the best possible solution.
The situation was stupid. I wished to illustrate a discussion point so I found a photo on my phone and showed the gals I was talking to. Now this really didn’t help at all, as the next question was how did I come by the photo... and it was at this point where I just did not wish to share the details with the assembled company. It may sound silly but perception is a difficult thing to manage. I like to think I have a jax-of the-people/down to earth image. But the fact is I have been fortunate to attend some high fluting does in far flung places. However, unless you wish to give your life history as to why and how you were there... it is never going to be a short story... and the moment you segue into that story... you are a show off and worse.. a bore. I didn’t wish to explain... but they were waiting to hear... so I made up a more accessible story. I made it sound as if the image on my phone occured by chance and it happened on my doorstep and the photo was a result of other people instigating some high jinks but above all - I had nothing to do with it.
Of course the accessible story was such a transparent lie (two clicks on Google and you’ll know it was not the truth)... but I just didn’t want to discuss my life with people who are not really part of it. I knew if I told the truth I would sound like I was showing off... and I really did NOT want to be that person. Like I said an enigmatic smile would have got me through the moment much better and at least I would not have woke up this morning with a desire to hack off my tongue.
I hate lying!
But on the other hand who wants to be an open book with absolutely no boundaries. Obviously there are some. I look at people who live in the constant glare of publicity. How on earth do they handle having every aspect of their lives being open to public debate? I listen to people talking of this celeb and that celeb as if they are people they know. They pontificate on the choices said celb makes and discuss the inner workings of the persons mind as if they were their personal shrink! I ‘m no celeb, but I would hate my life to be so open that everyplace I’ve been, everything I do or everything I am becomes the subject of the analysis of others. But what’s the alternative? How do you hold onto your boundaries?
I have not the foggiest!... well, I certainly didn’t last night. I had enough sense not to tell the whole story behind the photograph, because with that particular audience I know it would sound like I am the world’s biggest brag-meister. But jeepers! What a load of total bollix I came out with instead! It appears that one (or at least THIS one) cannot possibly be enigmatic whilst under the affluence of inkerhol. I was asked a direct question and instead of buttoning it or maybe saying ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’... I turned into Ernest Hemmingway! I feel ridiculous this morning! I have no idea why I did it other than at the time I panicked, I just didn’t want to reveal the real story and with the alcohol befuddling my senses decided I needed to fill the pregnant pause with lots of words which in that very moment sounded entirely plausible. (an exclusive revealation that happened only in my head!) Oh you should have seen me spinning my yarn... it was DREADFUL... I sounded like those fishermen who swear on all that is holy that the fish that got away was THIS big... or the child who insists that the damage was only THIS small!
I’m trying to be kind to myself this morning by blaming my panic story upon the alcohol... but I doubt anyone else will be. Like I said my lies were so preposterous that it will not take very long for the enviable exposure to follow. How ironic that in attempting to save my reputation by telling an out and out lie rather than reveal a detail that would not go down well... I have managed to damage my reputation by proving to be an out and out liar, something that will (in that particular crowd) go down like a lead balloon. All I can hope is that everyone else drank much more than me and that their delicate little heads are pounding so desperately this morning that they are incapable of remembering much detail of the prior night’s activities. Time will reveal at its own pace whether or not I have got away with it!
Oh well... no experience in life is wasted. I really don’t think I am qualified enough to be an even half competent liar. At least I now have it straight in my head why it is Jax is not ever going to get by on fabrications of reality:
1. I am crap at it
2. My conscience will haul me out of bed and make me feel physically sick
3. I cannot even construct a believable story so will be found out
4. If I were Pinocchio you would furnish a housing estate with the wood from my nose.
5. I really need to take a course in enigma... there must be a way of managing to keep private things private without such pathetic swerves into subterfuge.
If I had forgotten why it is I don’t tell lies... last night was a timely reminder.
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