little white lies

Who hasn't told one?

Some are innocuous enough.

"Hi, how are you?" "Great thank you," when your life is falling apart.

"We should really get together for lunch." "I'd love that," when you'd really rather be having your teeth drilled.

"Alexander, where are you?" "In the library," which is so often the answer I never believe him.

Some are more complicated.

M was on Sales Training for Gillette in Louisville Kentucky. Long before caller ID, she recovers from her answering machine a message on a Friday from her boss. She calls him back and he asks, "Hey, are you at home?"  "Yes, she responds." "Great, can you pull the file on Piggly Wiggly?" Yikes, now what? But M is quick. "Oh, I didn't know you meant home, home.  I thought you meant home, as in Louisville home. But I'm not at my apartment right now. I'll have to get the file later." In fact, M is almost 1,000 miles a way, visiting her fiancé in Boston.

Some are protective.

When Alexander was in middle school he got himself thrown off the water polo team because he hated it. But every day after school when I asked how practice was going, he'd always answer, "Fine." That is until I found out, during the course of another conversation with the school's dean. Was he really thinking I'd never learn the truth? What would have happened at the first match when he wasn't there?

Some white lies are just plain stupid.

"Did you send the form I asked you to mail? I question Alexander on Monday. "Yes," he answers without hesitation.  On Friday I ask him again. "I still haven't gotten the form, did you really mail it on Monday?"  "Okay," he confesses. I just mailed it yesterday."  As if I wouldn't notice when the form doesn't arrive when it's supposed to.

Today I meet Jill to see a little off-Broadway play, A Happy Ending. I get there exactly on time and she hasn't arrived yet. I use the bathroom, and my phone rings while I'm in the stall. Thinking it's Jill calling to tell me she's on her way, I answer and it's Eric W, the guy I last saw and spoke to when we went out a month ago.

"Hi. Wow; you've caught me in a really awkward place." I have no idea why I blurt this out, as obviously he can't see me.

"Well, that begs the question, where are you?"

Caught off guard, I answer truthfully.  And then immediately wish I hadn't.

Now this would have been the perfect time to use one of those little white lies. I wish I'd been quicker.