Real grownups don't move to New York City without a plan.
Alright, I had some illusions surrounding the train. It was more glamorous than the bus, more economical than flying. I thought it would be romantic—a relic of a bygone era, like in the old black and white movies—jazz musicians and men in fedoras and sensible women reading fashion magazines. It made me think of words like ‘rendezvous’ and ‘intrigue.’ What I found instead was a platoon of iPods at full volume, huge men who should have been required to pay for two tickets, and blatantly breastfeeding women. It brought to mind phrases like ‘get me out of here’ and very specific and very attainable thoughts of homicide.
Showing posts with label fake grownup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fake grownup. Show all posts
Monday, October 26, 2009
fake grownup: erin
Real Grownups Don't Lie in Interviews
After years of taking stock of my moral fiber, it has come to my attention that I lie. I wouldn't say I'm a liar, though. A liar lies to everyone. I only lie to strangers. It’s an incongruous trait, as I was raised in an uncommonly moral family. Both of my parents are the types who would confront a grocery store clerk about even thinking they were undercharged, whereas I am delighted to be undercharged even by a few cents. I feel this is vindication for the prices those Satanists charge for chunky peanut butter. In fact, it makes it taste better.
Because of my upbringing, I know in my mind that lying is wrong, and I can almost always tell you so in hindsight. However, at the moment that I feel compromised or in the face of a situation that could wind up in awkwardness or even punishment, my gut instinct is to lie. Lie my ass off. Lie until I would actually disrespect the person if they did believe me. In that panicked moment, it just comes out, defying reason.
I give you, Exhibit A:
After years of taking stock of my moral fiber, it has come to my attention that I lie. I wouldn't say I'm a liar, though. A liar lies to everyone. I only lie to strangers. It’s an incongruous trait, as I was raised in an uncommonly moral family. Both of my parents are the types who would confront a grocery store clerk about even thinking they were undercharged, whereas I am delighted to be undercharged even by a few cents. I feel this is vindication for the prices those Satanists charge for chunky peanut butter. In fact, it makes it taste better.
Because of my upbringing, I know in my mind that lying is wrong, and I can almost always tell you so in hindsight. However, at the moment that I feel compromised or in the face of a situation that could wind up in awkwardness or even punishment, my gut instinct is to lie. Lie my ass off. Lie until I would actually disrespect the person if they did believe me. In that panicked moment, it just comes out, defying reason.
I give you, Exhibit A:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
