Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire

A friend once gave me some good advice about women:

"Girls are mean. Throw rocks at them!"

I sat at lunch with PG today. She started out in a sour mood when I saw her this morning, so I asked her to elaborate while we split our lunches down the middle. She explained about how she got rejected twice last week, once with her on-again-off-again-for-five-months-guy, and the other with a guy she's known for a while but decided to do something about.

We somehow got on the subject with me. I think there was a meaningful yet accidental segue on my part where she uttered total frustration for trying and getting the shut down and I offered, "I know what you mean. I really do. I'm going through that, too."

"What's up with you?"

Fuck. I proceeded to tell her about my own frustrations with a particular woman. A small, boiling feeling started inside me, like I was gonna get caught with my hand in the cookie jar. So I did the only thing I could think of: I lied. I tried to be vague about all the details, seeing as it was her I was talking about and not another "friend." All the while my thoughts were teetering on whether or not she would figure out if I was talking about her. I didn't plan on talking about this today, nor did I think I wanted to be having this discussion in the company lunchroom of all places, so I took the nearest opportunity to change the subject. I then said, "...Which is why I'm pretty psyched about this blind date a friend set me up with a few days ago."

I looked at her face to gauge a reaction. PG looked at me kind of blank. It seemed as though she was still preoccupied with her own problems, thus not really listening and not seeing through my half-assed attempt to cover up the truth. It seemed I would be safe for now.

I do want to tell her how I feel because there was a little truth in what I told her. I said that rather than trying to do anything more about this girl, I decided to just leave it alone a while. "I have a feeling that right now isn't the time to do anything about it. Maybe sometime in the future."

I don't like to lie, but I felt this was one of those exceptions where it was okay, somewhere between "fear of death," and "when you don't want to admit to passing gas." Names were changed to protect the innocent. I later realized our conversation over lunch wasn't a real confession on my part, and I would eventually have to do something about my decision to tell her or not. But a part of me wonders if she really did understand what I was saying and just playing things off, in which case we both lied pretty good.

I enjoyed the rest of my lunch with a cigarette in the beautiful spring weather. Later, PG and I were reading magazines and she passed me an article about sexomniacs. I wouldn't mind having that kind of a "problem," though not remembering having sex would kind of suck.

I really do have a blind date this week. A few traded voicemail back and forth and perhaps this Wednesday will have something new to write about. Then Denver!