It's never anything cool. I don't tell people I'm a ninja (not like that's a lie) or even anything that would make me look more like a classy lady - I don't swear, I can't eat an entire large pizza alone, I don't serenade my loved ones to off-key classic rock ballads on a regular basis.
No, it's always about the stupid little things that will somehow come back to bite you in the ass. In bed last Saturday, for some reason, instead of saying something cool like, yeah, I'm a four time Olympic gold gymnast, I told the guy I was with that feet freak me out. Oh, context? Don't worry, he wasn't shoving his feet in my face or anything. You would have seen me running down Atwells at 4 a.m. I probably should have used a lie when he told me he wanted to stay up with me all night. Then, I should have dropped a lie so it seemed like I didn't have massive insomnia problems and had been awake for 48 hours already and might fall asleep mid naked happy baby pose. Instead, as I was flopped down on the bottom of the bed, turned around wrong-ways - not for some fun, previously unknown sex move, but because I wanted to see if the room looked any different from this angle (it doesn't) - he grabbed my feet and for some reason I said, 'motherfucker, feet freak me out.'
This isn't entirely true. I don't mind my own feet. They're somewhat freakishly small which makes shoe buying shitty because they only ever have a few pairs of size six. I don't have finger toes or bunions or webbed toes. I had a cute pedicure and everything. But I'm compelled to lie for no reason on a regular basis.
And it's stuff like this that will come back and bite me in the ass. Somehow, this will be the guy I marry, and he'll forever think feet freak me out. We'll have to always wear our shoes in the house. I'll never get a foot rub again. I'll have to sneak off to get pedicures and never get to see them because of the previously aforementioned always wear shoes in the house rule.
From now on, I'm thinking of cool lies. I'm an FBI informant in the witness protection program. I swam the English Channel (is that far?). I have a house in the Alps that I usually reside in so you'll probably never see me again after tonight. That blonde walking down Bolyston? Not me. Totally my cyborg twin from the witness protection program. Who else here has lied about stupid shit and it's come back to bite you? Don't lie to me. I know it has.
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