A friend of mine once told me that women are devious. She was very proud of her ability to pull one over on her husband. I half believed her until she got caught by her husband. Unless it’s some kind of double reverse backhand deviousness.
Yesterday, I was in the farmer’s market picking out vegetables and suddenly there’s a familiar face. She knows my name, but I tell her, “I know your face, but I can’t pick out your name.” It turns out she’s a client of mine. Instantly we’re “talking shop” there at the market.
Later on in the day, I’m at the theater where my daughter’s dance recital is. My son wants a snack, so I’m doing the father thing, and taking him to get a snack. But it turns out I don’t have any singles. So I’m standing there when this really beautiful woman with grapefruit sized boom-booms popping out of her too-tight blouse.
She asks me if I need change. Instantly I’m in flirt mode. She’s says something about being the vending machine guy’s wife, and she pulls out a wad of cash. Anyway, I’m in high energy wundayatta mode for about two minutes and then she leaves and I’m back to Dad. I wonder what my son thought of it all.
Back when I was having affairs, I had to switch from lover to husband a few times a night. My wife had no idea what I was doing until I told her. It’s amazing how quickly the lies appear, just when you need them.
They say it’s hard to lie because you have to keep all your stories straight. But I have a good trick now to take care of that kind of thing. My memory is for shit, these days. So it doesn’t matter if I can remember anything. It’s normal to forget. My ability to make things up as I go along—as in tell stories—is also pretty handy—not for lying, but for spinning tales. People believe them. Kind of fun.