The Girl Who Preferred Lies
Winter, 2005/06.

My friend Skater Bob and I were at the Starbucks across from NYU getting coffee. Our table was next to this girl working on her laptop. She was making loud sighs and talking to herself wanting the coffee shop to feel her studying pain. Anyhow, as we were sitting there, somehow a conversation started up with her. I think she asked for the time or something. Any way, she was indeed an NYU student studying for exams.

She asked Bob and me if we were students. When we said we weren't she looked at us like we were bullshitting, trying to impress her or something. Then she asked Bob what he did, and he said he worked in the mailroom at Oprah magazine (which was the absolute truth), and she looked at him like she couldn't believe the extent of the lies he told, saying, "Yeah, whatever."
Then she asked me, "What do you do?" expecting nothing but more bullshit. I told her I was a freelance artist. And she was like, "What's that mean?" And I told her what it meant, and again she thought we were both shittin' her, even giving us a roll of the eyes, sighing "Whatever." I guess she was convinced we were both students trying to act like we weren't. Funny bitch.

So she asked how old we were. Bob and I both look younger than our ages. Bob can pass for 17 in the right light, and I can pass for 25 in the right color tee shirt. When he said 34, and I said 36, she shook her head, repulsed by all of our lies that she saw straight through (of which were none) and just went back to studying. You could tell she had been warned about being swindled and slipped a mickey by smooth-talkiin' big city types. She was WAY ahead of our schemes. So we stopped talking to her.

Several minutes later she got up and asked us if we could keep an eye on her laptop while she smoked outside, giving us a second and third suspicious look before trusting us enough to do even that. While she was out, Bob and I joked about how she doesn't believe the true things we say, and we thought it'd be funny to watch her believe lies. I told Bob "Let's tell her when she comes back that some guy came in and asked if anyone was watchin' her laptop. Then we'll say that when we told him 'Yeah, we're watchin' it.' Then say he took off out the door and down the street." We agreed to the lie, and waited for her return.


So she comes back in, sits down, and I turn to her and say, "While you were gone this guy came over and asked us if anyone was watchin' your computer."
You should have seen the expression on her face! "Really? You're joking!"
"No. He walked up and asked us if anyone was watchin' that computer, and when we told him we were, he said 'okay' and then took off out the door. No joke."
Then she said, "Oh my god! What'd he look like?!?"
And without a pause I turned to her and said, "Black guy, purple lips." then turned back around straight faced, trying not to laugh.

She immediately got on the phone and started yappin' to whoever it was on the other end about what had just happened! "You're not gonna believe this. Guess what just happened. I went to go have a cigarette outside and told these guys next to me to watch my computer and yadda yadda yadda..."


Best part was, when Bob and I were leaving she was still on the phone telling the story to another person, and I slipped one of my "A Man Named Jesus" pamphlets onto her table. She didn't see me do it. Then when we left. Outside we stood off to the side and watched her discover it, open it up, see the little comic of Jesus dreaming about the shemale, get furious, tears it up and throws it on the floor disgusted. She looked everywhere for us, but we were already outside, walking down the street laughing at the girl who preferred lies.

 

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