*this is a work of nonfiction based on actual events that I experienced personally
I'll never forget the first time a man lied to me.
My close friend had an idea. She and I planned to see a movie, and her neighbor wanted to see it, too. So she proposed we invite him, which didn't appeal to me. However, I didn't feel empowered to say no.
I agreed to allow him to join us. It was a harmless enough request even if it made me uneasy. Besides, the movie theater is a public place. Who was I to refuse him access?
He and I had met in passing, and I wasn't sure whether I actually liked him as a person. What I knew was that he had a crush on me.
My friend had told me that much. What she didn't tell me was that she'd let him think our outing to the movie theater was actually a date.
I don't know why he believed her; I suppose we all believe what we want to believe. Anyway, he had no reason to doubt her.
The three of us met at the movie theater. Before the movie began, my friend's neighbor regaled me with tales of his high-paying job and his Cadillac. Our entire conversation revolved around only those two topics.
I frequently glanced at my friend for help changing the topic, rolling my eyes when I was sure he couldn't see me, but my friend seemed oblivious to his bragging and my boredom.
Fortunately, the movie started eventually and put an end to the conversation. Unfortunately, we followed up our movie with dinner.
Once again, it was the three of us, and I had no idea I was on a date. The conversation picked up right where we had left off before the movie with my "date" carrying on about his Cadillac as if someone had told him I had a special place in my heart for Cadillacs, or men who drove Cadillacs.
The evening finally drew to a close. It wasn't a moment too soon.
As my friend and my companion boarded the city bus to go home, this man had these final parting words. "Next time we go on a date, I'll pick you up in my Cadillac. I would have brought it tonight, but it's in the shop!"
We waved a final goodbye, and I vowed never to put myself in this situation again.
The following day, I let my friend know in no uncertain terms that I didn't appreciate the sneaky little way she had set me up on a date without my knowledge, but she just shrugged and laughed.
"I know, and I'm sorry. He begged me to do it," she said. "And by the way, he doesn't have a Cadillac, and it's not in the shop." She lowered her voice to a whisper as if he was hiding in the shadows and could hear us. "He doesn't even have a driver's license."
And that's the story of the first time a man ever lied to me, or at least it was the first time I found out about it.
This happened several decades ago. My formerly close friend and I aren't close anymore. I haven't seen her or her neighbor in many years. It's a shame that she and I didn't keep in touch, but I don't miss him at all.
I hope he finally got his Cadillac. If memory serves me correctly, he was very fond of them.
As for me, I'll take the truth over an expensive car any day.