When Lying Is Good

i am the worst liar i know.  i can’t lie even if it meant a life of happiness.  this past weekend my horrible skills were put to the test.  i was in dc for my brother’s birthday.  his girlfriend was planning a surprise part for him.  keeping that from him was hard, but when he decided to make his own plans it got even harder.  the party was suppose to start between 8 and 9, but the only reservation we could get for dinner at Ray’s the Steaks was 9:30.  when he looked to me for agreement on the time (since we normally eat around 6 or 7) all i could do was stare blankly back at him.

luckily i wasn’t the only one who knew about the surprise and my sister fixed it.  we went to dinner where his gf would meat us (last week in an email my sister typed “meat” instead of “meet”…i couldn’t resist here seeing that we were at a steakhouse), but we finished our meal before she arrived so we needed to stall. 

how do you stall any boy?  you start talking about them.  it’s often stated that girls love talking about themselves, but boys love it more than we do.  it worked like a charm, as we chronicled all of his major life accomplishments.  she was there shortly, blindfolded him and threw him in a cab.  i made it the whole night, without spilling it.  the best part was seeing him caught off guard because that never happens, he normally taps into his sixth sense aka body language.

Ross: Phoebe, there is no secret, okay? I didn’t propose!
Phoebe: Are you lying? Is this like that time you tried to convince us you were a doctor?