HUMOR | LITTLE WHITE (OR NOT) LIES | GAMES WE PLAY

Why, Of Course I Love Fish Stew and 20 Other Lies

The truth will set you free. Maybe.

Mark Twain, in his wisdom, famously equated statistics with lies. In some ways, statistics are little more than a pretty roll of the dice — they matter only in what current game they’re being used to keep score. But statistics get more respect because they clean up better than their poor relations, the lies.

There are lies, damned lies and statistics. — Mark Twain

Statistics are insufferably snooty and boring, and I’m not, so we’ll march right on to lies and damned lies. I here present 21 of the cream of the crop, with notes added for clarification. I make no distinction between lies and damned lies.

Everything is relative, after all.

1. I’m on my way.

We know full well you haven’t even gotten in the shower yet, Kevin. In our family, this lie is grounds for being disowned. After all, we are fully aware of how long it takes for you to get from there to here.

Worse yet, if someone is waiting for you somewhere, you are the worst kind of foot-dragging cad. Everybody in our family despises having to wait for anyone. Even you.

2. I’ll try to make it.

This is code for nope, not coming — I’m just being pleasantly evasive. Oddly enough, this is something just about everyone understands, except, unfortunately, Grandma. She’s counting on you.

Do or do not. There is no try. — Yoda

3. I would never lie to you.

Only prevaricators say this. Only prevaricators with something to hide say this. If they look you straight in the eye while saying it, run like the wind.

If someone doubts my word, my response is, “I do not lie,” not “I would never lie to you.” See the difference? “I would never lie to you” sounds sleazy.

It’s all in the details. I love semantics.

I don’t lie about anything important. I really don’t. I’m not claiming moral superiority, it simply isn’t in my DNA. I am terminally honest, and sometimes wish I were not. But I have perfected the non-answer, which is not lying.

Example: Cousin Becky has shown up with an astonishing new hairdo that looks like a wig flew back on her head after the dogs had dragged it around the yard, and she is obviously expecting a compliment.

Your mother helpfully says, “Doesn’t Becky look nice?”

The non-answer: “Oh, my gosh! What cute shoes! Where did you get them? Are you still seeing George?” In the resulting fray, the hair situation will be forgotten, especially if George is the bounder you suspect he is.

But I would leave as soon as decently possible, particularly before alcohol, the original truth-serum, is served.

4. I only had one beer. (Two, if you’ve been stopped by the cops, because it sounds more honest, right?).

This is a Universal denial. If the issue has arisen, by default, you have not had only one beer.

Every OWI client I’ve ever represented said the same thing: “I only had two (or a couple).” A couple dozen is more like it. I really don’t judge — this is merely denial and self-preservation kicking in.

It’s not evil, but it ain’t the truth, either. And we all know it. Especially the cops.

5. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.

Oh, something is most definitely wrong.

6. I’m almost there.

You lying toad. You haven’t even left the house. In our family, if you try this, there will be Hell to pay. Grandma is already putting food on the table. Nobody upsets Grandma and gets away with it.

7. I never got that text.

Texts are so conveniently deleted, are they not? And unless forensics is involved, totally deniable.

8. We’re going to just have one and then leave.

Famous last words of partyers everywhere. We all know it isn’t true, but we have the best intentions and it makes us feel so righteous to say it. The fact is, dueling in the street with orange hazard warning cones on our heads is only a few hours and 10 shots away.

9. It’s great to see you!

No, it isn’t. I wish I had gone to that other grocery store. I’m even having a bad hair day. Ugh.

10. It’s not you, it’s me.

It’s you. Yep, totally you.

11. It’s all good.

It’s not all good, you inconsiderate clod.

12. I only want to cuddle.

Not even remotely true. Turns into touchy-feely, just let me put it in for a minute faster than a speeding bullet.

Do it or don’t do it. There is no “only cuddle”. — Yoda’s wife

13. I’m so sorry, but I have plans that day.

I do. I have plans to not participate in whatever ordeal you’re trying to organize.

14. Hey! I didn’t even see you there!

Shit. I thought I could slink down this aisle and you would never know I was here. Shit, shit, shit!

15. I’ll call you later.

Either very much later or not at all. It just depends.

16. I have to go. There’s an emergency.

I have had all of this party that I can endure. That’s the emergency.

17. This is delicious!

Can be considered polite when you’re a guest in someone’s home, but proceed with caution. I remember being invited for dinner and the main course was fish stew. I detest fish — in my opinion, fish stew is an abomination. I thought I would die from the smell alone. I was careful in my polite praise (the dinner rolls were excellent) because I never want to eat that vile concoction again in this lifetime.

At home, be sure you mean it; otherwise, you’ll be eating that tuna delight every week until you die. My husband is cool about this. If he doesn’t carry on that the meal is sublime, I know he’s not crazy about it, and usually, neither am I. That’s my cue to throw it out and it’s never heard from again.

18. I have to pee.

This is a justifiable falsehood when you have no other means of escape. We had a next-door neighbor who was the world’s expert on absolutely everything and could talk the bark off trees. He would pop out of his door the second we rolled into our drive and start in with his latest soliloquy on the advantages of earthworm farming or some other equally mind-numbing topic. The only way to save yourself was to either feign death or to begin dancing around and say, “I’m so sorry, but I have to pee.”

We used to peek out the front door very quietly and carefully and look both ways before venturing outside if his truck was in his driveway.

19. I barely know her.

Oh really, dear? She seems to know you quite well. Do tell.

20. We only went out a couple of times.

See #19 above.

And by the way, living together is not going out a couple of times. Just so you know.

21. Lying about sex.

Was it really that good? Did the Earth move? Just remember you’re going to get a whole lot more of what just transpired if you say it was, so choose wisely, Grasshopper.

And you are all welcome to every last bit of my fish stew. No lie.

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