Liar's Club

            I recently found out there is such a thing as a Liar’s Club and to be totally honest, I’m a little terked off I wasn’t invited.  I’m not normally like that, but a Liar’s Club standoff?  Of all sporting events?! 

            I can lie with the best of ‘em.  It just depends on the content and the nature of the lie.  Take Liz, for example.  I lie to her all the time.  I come back to the bedroom after a five minute sojourn to the kitchen with a cup of coffee in my hand and she asks me, “Where’d you go?”  I tell her.  “Wyoming.  You ever been there?  Lovely place.”

            Or she knocks on the bathroom door and asks me what I’m doing.

            “I’m wraaanglin’ a sea monster!”

            (I pick on her a lot because, yeah, it’s fun, and it makes her laugh, most of the time, but she’s also the one I spend almost all of my time with, so she gets it by default.)

            Lieing is a virtue and an artform.  And it isn’t always for nice guys.  I admit, when I first found out about this I threw a little tantrum ‘cause I wasn’t invited. 

“What is this Liar’s Club?” 

            “I don’t know.  I guess a bunch of liars get together.”

            “And do what?”

            “Tell stories, I guess.”

            “What kind of stories?  Stupid liar stories?  That’s stupid!”  …  “Why wasn’t I invited?” 

            Sometimes the greatest lies aren’t even lies.  They are subtle, simple truths, surrounded by fiction.  The other day, I talked Liz into doing a little experiment with me.  Sort of.  I told her I wanted to take a funny picture.  So, she put on my boxers and my gold bermuda shirt and the lighting kinda sucks in our bedroom, so I had her stand on the bed, to catch the best light off the lamp. 

            She obliged.  Dutifully. 

            She was already in the mindset of making some kind of funny face.  She wasn’t too surprised when I told her to put her hands in the air like she just don’t care.  She obliged. 

She didn’t expect me to have a glass of water at the ready, but, for one thing, the glass was empty, it was just a ruse to get her going, but even so, it wouldn’t have been the first time I tossed a glass of water on her for effect (it was just the once, the effect was utter failure, and I won’t do it again) so overall this time, with all things considered, the effect was pure gold.  And nobody got wet.  Or hurt.  Or pissed.

            She looked like a scared linebacker on crack on Halloween night with a field full of monster brats coming at him.  Her.  The photo turned out lovely.  But I didn’t put it on the web.  That wasn’t my purpose.

            We tease Liz about just how severely unique she is, and it’s just a joke, but it’s a running joke that’s been going for years and shows no signs of tiring, that one day she’s gonna lose her mind.  Flip her lid.  She’s going to snap.

            I waited for her BFF to come over, to make her daily visit.  I let her and Liz go for awhile.  Talking about this that or the other.  I waited for Liz to say or do something unintentionally funny, as she is sooo good at doing. 

            Teresa told her something and they began a conversation and half way through, Liz got lost, then redirected and caught up, shortly thereafter she forgot what they were talking about, Teresa reminded her, Liz got confused, she backtracked and found her way right on her own accord, Liz then told Teresa that she was the one that was wrong, tried telling her what was right, then got confused, lost interest, and started talking about something else on an unrelated topic.

            That’s when I struck.

            I told Teresa, “It’s happened.  It happened earlier.  She finally snapped.  She’s gone.  Liz is gone.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Liz.  Liz – is – gone.  She’s not here no more.  Liz went away.  She was in my underwear earlier standing on the bed freaking out and screaming.  Threatening violence.  I was scared.  I almost called the cops.  I tried to call you but she took the phone from me and busted it on the floor.”

            Liz shrieked, “I did not!”

            With a straight face and a bit of a whimper, I shouted back, “You did too!  Don’t deny it!”

            I showed her the photo.  I had her going for awhile.  Had her thinking Liz had finally done it.  Lost it.  Went nuts.  Teresa that is.  Had her going.  Though, I don’t know.  Liz looked like she might’ve been second guessing there for a minute.  Never know with her.  God bless her.  I do love her.  She’s such a good sport. 

           

            Sometimes the lies are more subtle.  All those nice, reassuring folks telling me, “What are you talking about?  You’re not getting fat!”  Uh huh.  You start believing them and you eventually realize, ‘I haven’t worn a belt in six months.  These pants used to fall to my ankles without a belt.’ …pause, wait on it, eventually… ‘Heeeyyy!  They lied to me!’