Lying

I walked to a doctor's appointment today and left the apartment at 2:00 p.m., so as to give myself plenty of time. My appointment was for 3:30. I got there at 2:45 and wondered what on earth I would do. But it was a good sign that no one else was in the waiting room. Fortunately, for me, this doctor doesn't have many patients, and they took me right in, especially after I explained why I was so early.

I apologized to the receptionist: "I'm sorry I'm so early; I walked here." I pulled off J.D.'s black cap I had worn and started smoothing down my hair.

She gave me a quizzical look: "All the way from Washington?" Shocked, she glanced at the address from my open file. "Wow, that's a few miles!"

"Yes--" Me, thinking it was really no big deal. I just made the trip quicker than I thought I would. Is it really so strange that a person would walk anywhere? Maybe she was shocked because of the cold weather too. (It's in the low 30s here today).

But I didn't say that. Instead, I blurted out "My car was stolen."

Now, you may ask, what little imp gave me that devilish thought? Perhaps it was because she was already so shocked, part of me wanted to play the game further to really shock her?

If so, it wasn't conscious. I rather naively and innocently just tried to explain the reason I walk almost everywhere. I've been living with the reality of my car being stolen for several years now. I didn't stop to realize how someone unfamiliar with myself would interpret this as a recent event. (Or how most people with stolen cars actually replace them in a timely manner).

She gazed at me, astounded. "Oh!"

Then I realized I couldn't easily explain this event happened several years ago. So, I decided to just play along like the last 3 or 4 years didn't exist.

She snapped into action: "Oh, come right this way, you poor thing. Go right into the office on the left. The doctor will be in a minute."

When he comes in, the receptionist has evidently told him, and he asks me more questions about my stolen car than my health. Go figure. I guess it was the trade-off for fibbing. I ended up telling him the version of when my car was crashed and a bottle of Jim Beam left in the backseat as evidence.

He was then upset about the degenerate youth of today: "They're all either drunk or on drugs or don't have licences." -- I'm not entirely sure how that last one fit in.-- But he told me that he himself didn't like driving much. "I could never figure out the brake thing. My dad told me if I wanted to stop, to just run into a tree. I'm amazed I'm still here."

This was the friendliest this doctor had ever been with me. I didn't mind his chatting about his adolescence. It was fairly amusing. The whole visit was rather funny, and I was laughing to myself as I left.

And I made it home by 3:45-- not too long after my appointment was supposed to start!