Little white lies. What can you say about them? Sometimes a necessary evil, but for the most part I think people try to be honest and avoid lying when they can. But what about the people who don’t? What about the people who are big fat liars just to be big fat liars? What are they getting out of this? I guess if I had the answer to that question I would be a rich woman.
I met “Kendell” online of course. Which dating site I can’t remember, although at this point I suppose it doesn’t matter. He lived in Sanibel Island which is about a three and a half hour drive so as far as I was concerned it might as well have been a world away. I wasn’t about to make that trip so I didn’t even give him a second thought. But he was persistent and agreed to make the drive to meet me and he was a musician, which I thought was interesting, so once again my attitude was “what the hell”.
We met at a local pool hall for our first date. It was a little uncomfortable bending over a pool table in front of a guy I just met, but he didn’t seem to mind, and after a drink or two I was a little less self conscience and started to enjoy myself. He was starting to tell me more about himself when the DJ started to play a song that I was vaguely familiar with due to the strong saxophone rift. He then tells me that he was the musician who played on that record. Really? Interesting.
As we continued to talk he kept mentioning all the people in the music industry that he’s worked with. I told him that I would love to see some pictures. “No problem” he said. “I’ll bring them on our next date.” Nice. At least I knew I was getting a second date and hopefully he would be able to back up some of these claims of his because at this point I wasn’t buying it.
Next date rolls around and I ask about the pictures. “Oh, I’m not the kind of person who brags like that and I don’t really feel like I have to prove myself.” Uh huh. Sure, whatever buddy. At the end of the date however he asks me if I would like to see the DVD of his concert at The Villages (which for those of you who don’t know is a retirement community in Central Florida) and listen to his CD. He pulls out a portable DVD player that he plugs into the cigarette lighter of his car and I watch in fascination. Not because of his great performance or anything. In fact, you barely even see him on the stupid DVD. I watch in fascination because I’m supposed to believe that he doesn’t like to brag about the people he has played music with, but he carries his own CD in his car and a DVD of a really crappy concert that was barely youtube worthy? Something is not adding up.
We talk on the phone a few times after this and he tells me about how his sister is top level FBI or something like that, and his whole family has the highest level security clearance, and that one of his high school teachers was Tom Clancy (the author) and that his best friends dad ran the mob in New York and he had Richie Sambora from Bon Jovi on speed dial on his cell phone and….. blah, blah, blah. The bullshit just got thicker from there and I stopped listening.
Clearly the reason that he has to travel three hours for a date because everyone else inside that circle has heard his ridiculous tall tales. So I decide to call him out. I tell him that I googled Tom Clancy and that he was never a school teacher. And I googled his high ranking sis and her top level security was crap because I found her information all over the internet. This sent him through the roof! He told me that he was going to report me. To who? And for what? I just started laughing my ass off at him and couldn’t stop. And then I heard it. Click. He hung up on me. Guess he didn’t like the fact that I knew he was full of crap. Too bad for him.
To this day, I’m still waiting for the FBI to come throw me in the slammer for unlawful Googling of dumbasses. Maybe they’ll read this blog and then I’ll really be in trouble.
