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:



[knock at door]
Police officer holding stack of filthy mail: Does a Brett Barbour live here?
Me, solemnly: No.
Brett: Yes. I'm Brett.
Police Officer: Have you all been throwin stuff in the dumpster next door?
Me: No.
Brett: Yep.
Police Officer: The owner of that dumpster is pretty peeved. Would you all like to come over so we can try to reach some sort of agreement?
Me: No.

That last no was actually the truth and, incidentally, the beginning of a story that ends with "and that's how I spent my last day of college in a dumpster."

I guess I could say, almost categorically, that I would lie to anyone who came to my front door unsolicited. Even cute little Girl Scouts, whose cookies I anxiously await. How many boxes would you like? I recite a number between 1 [Thin Mints] and 3 [Samoas]. Lies, all lies. I would like infinite boxes, but I would like them for free.

I also lie to everyone who calls my house unsolicited, even the good, upstanding people who are calling on behalf of important and worthy causes. After a lifetime of hearing my mother's polite responses, you'd think I would have learned.

Caller: This is [blank] from the [blank] Disabled [blank] Association. We were hoping you planned to donate this year.
My Mother: No, I'm sorry, we won't be able to donate this year. But thank you for calling.

Let's examine this same situation when handed to me:

Caller: This is [blank] from the [blank] Disabled [blank] Association. We were hoping you planned to donate this year.
Me [faking a high-pitched, childish voice]: I’m sorry, my parents aren't home right now. Bye bye!

There is one exception in the lie-to-callers instinct, and it is political parties. I lie to them only half the time, which I simply consider returning the favor. They poll me about my satisfaction with whatever political figure, and I mess with their data. On a scale of 1-10, my actual satisfaction is .12. But I know that will be consider an outlier, so I tell them 2.4. I actually use math to lie, which, other than my taxes, is unheard of in my life. They always catch on and find a way to disqualify me as a survey participant. I am always so close to completing the survey, too. Perhaps it would be better in person, since I seem to excel there.

I know this, of course, because there are the undeniable face-to-face lies which, like so many of the worst things in life, often involve ex-lovers in coffee shops.

Ex-boyfriend: Hey! It's been awhile, what have you been up to?
Me: Oh, you know, I've been busy. [Lie.]
Ex-boyfriend: Oh yeah? With what?
Me: Oh, the usual. Work, friends, the gym. [Lies, with the last one being a visible lie. Truth: internet surfing, drinking, eating.]
Barista: GRANDE HAZELNUT LATTE!
Ex-boyfriend: Is that yours?
Me: Sure! [Lie. Get me out of here!]
Ex-boyfriend: Cool, well...good to see you.
Me: Good to see you too. [Lie.] See you around. [Lie. In the past thirty seconds, I have decided to move to Portugal.]

These are all unfortunate instances, but they don’t have any particular consequences. My lying pinnacle hit about a week ago. It was an in-person lie, and it was bad. It was during an interview with a search committee.

This cheeky old man says to me: I’m looking the bottom of your resume. And I must admit, I’m not sure what a “tam” environment is…”
Other lady: I figured it was just a typo…like it was supposed to be “team”
Both of them look at me: Is a typo?

I am an English major, for God’s sake! It cannot be a typo! It canNOT! So I lied.

Me: No, no. It’s not a typo. It stands for “Total Atmosphere Management.” It’s a principle we used to evaluate the overall customer experience.
Them: Oh!

Ka-blam. Lied in an interview. About something they can, and likely will, Google search.

If you listen closely, you can hear a chorus of karmic laughter: grocery store clerks, a small town police officer, political telemarketers, and ex-boyfriends alike. They join together to revel in my comeuppance.

Here’s one thing that isn’t a lie: I hope that this commentary, my public confession, will someday surface as a published and legitimate document that proves I am unfit for jury duty.