Liar, Liar

Time for a rant, folks. Sorry bout it, but I’m irritated on the topic.

Why is it so goddamned hard for motherfuckers to tell the truth?

And in this case, motherfuckers is not a gender oriented word. Any one who lies, male or female or anyone in between, is a motherfucker. 

Anyway, I get it. You did something you’re ashamed of and don’t want people to know about it. Okay. 

Simple fucking solution. It’s common sense, a no brainer. Don’t do shit to put yourself in that type of situation! 

I also understand that certain circumstances are unavoidable. 

But here’s a concept for you. . . 

Ready?

Maybe by being honest, you can cut some drama and bullshit. The situation may not be ideal, but instead of dragging out the inevitable with a lie, be honest from the get and just be done with it. 

From a young age, I was trained to lie. Lie about my mother’s living circumstances, the frequent cases of abuse, the drinking, the drugs. Same went with my father. I hate to speak ill of my dead parents but facts are, they were addicts. While I have forgiven them and love them to the depths of my soul, they had me and my brother trained to lie from the moment we could talk. I was talking to Dorothy one day about how easy it is for me to come up with a lie, on the spot. I’m good at it, because I was trained. It’s sad, really. We were discussing a work situation where someone had lied, and the lie hadn’t been a good one. I came up with three different actually feasible lies on the spot that would have worked way better for the person who told the lie.

Just because I’m good at it, doesn’t mean I do it though. 

I put my foot down about lying when I was around 12. I flat out told dad that I wasn’t going to do it anymore, and if there was something that he didn’t want the truth getting out about he best not let me in on it. Not that I’m a blabbermouth. I don’t gossip or go looking to set things right so to speak by telling people about others transgressions. But if I’m asked, and I know, I’ll be honest. While dad didn’t particularly like it – frankly he was pissed over it, mainly due to my tone – he couldn’t fault me, either. So that put a stop to that.

Lying is stressful and hard. You have to remember your lie, and keep up the facade of truth you’ve built. You sit and wonder if the person you lied to is going to find out, or more likely how long it’s going to take for them to find out. Because eventually those that are lied to find out the truth. And nine times out of ten, the result of being caught in a lie is way worse than if you had just been honest. Be honest with me, and I’ll be pissed, but I’ll get over it. Lie to me? Kiss your ass good-bye. I’ll never trust you again, and given the option I will completely cut you from my life and not look back. I have no time for lies, or the people that tell them. 

I’m honest to a fault. A boss caught me slacking at work. When I was asked why, I didn’t offer some lame excuse – because I didn’t have one. Facts were, I was slacking. I was met with a shocked look at my honesty. I was told to step it up, and we moved on with business. 

I have been pulled over multiple times. Three times with no license, twice for speeding. The no license situations, I was honest and they told me to go home and stay there, looking puzzled. I mean, really. When they ran my name they were gonna find out anyway, sooo.  . . May as well be honest. The one speeding situation was kind of funny. 

“Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?”

“Yes sir. I was speeding.”

There was a longish pause, and the officer cleared his throat. “Um, yes. Do you know how fast you were going?”

“No sir. I honestly wasn’t paying attention to my speed until I saw your lights.”

Longer pause this time.

“Is your speedometer broken, ma’am?”

“No sir. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

 He gave me an out and I didn’t take it. Maybe I’m a fool, but I also didn’t know if it was a trap, so I stuck to the truth. And he was completely floored by it.

I still got an expensive ticket, but I didn’t land in jail for lying to an officer. And I was speeding, which is plainly against the law. He had me dead to rights.

He supposedly clocked me at 73mph in a 55mph zone, for the record. That’s pretty damn close to reckless driving and I would have been up shit crick. Especially because I’m pretty sure when I saw his lights in my mirror and looked down at my speed, it was well over 73mph. And I’d already hit the brakes.

Just throwing that out there. Had I lied I bet I’d have lost that job, or in the speeding situation I may have landed in jail. As it stands I have a good work record and have never seen the inside of a jail cell, knock on wood.

Folks. Morale of the story is honesty. You maybe fucked up and did something you shouldn’t have, but by being honest you get the situation out of the way, and lesser consequences. 

End rant.

Published by: A. Elizardo

Single mother to two amazing boys, sister to an inspiration, and the daughter of two opinionated, sarcastic, fun loving individuals that are no longer physically with us. Music, writing, reading, my family - living and gone - are what keep me going as I put on my rose colored glasses and navigate us through this crazy world.

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