the good lie

Monday afternoon, in a bundle of mail, one simple red and white postcard from Target stood out:

Hello, thanks for taking the time to apply with us.
While we're unable to off you a position at this
time, we do appreciate your interest in Target.

Collin didn’t get the job, and I, being the one with the mail would have to tell him. Damn. As I debated whether or not to show Collin the postcard, I was also toying with the idea of following through with my lunch with Zahqwandra. Did I still need to do it? I mean, I know I told my blog friend Buffy that I would, but saying that I would was just a meaningless expression, like "Let’s do lunch," or "I love you." But what if it was all a test? What if Zahqwandra was testing me to see if I was just using her to get my brother a job? I mean, in truth, I was trying to use what little connection I had, but I couldn’t let her know that.

The next day, I called Zahqwandra to confirm our lunch. Though I had mixed feeling about being seen with Zahqwandra in public, I told myself it would be all right, because I was doing this for my brother, for myself, for my blog friend Madame D, who got picked on for being a weird kid in school and for every kid that developed an eating disorder after being teased by me. Ok, that’s a lie. The truth was, I told myself that little white lie, so it wouldn’t seem as bad when Zahqwandra offered my brother a job and me a discount. And though they say that lying is never the answer, arent there some cases where a little white lie can help? They certainly help when you’re shopping with a female friend who asks, "Does this make me look fat?"

It was the day after 06/06/06, and I figured, if I could survive a day that was deemed unholy, I certainly could survive a lunch with a girl whose body odor was deemed unholy. Zahqwandra chose the Olive Garden because she was a huge fan of the $5.95 All You Can Eat Soup and Salad meal. I was a huge fan of being anywhere you could eat in the afternoon without being recognized. Two salads and a bread basket later, I had learned that Zahqwandra was actually turning into one of those loser-in-high-school-winner-in-life type of people. She had been accepted into some naval school in Virginia Beach, was advancing fast in her education, and was totally destined for great things. Unfortunately, I was not chosen to share her accomplishments.

ZAHQWANDRA: David…I already know that you like me.
ME: You do?
ZAHQWANDRA: Yeah. Ever since high school. Remember Lynette from Yearbook? Yeah, well she told me everything.
ME: Wait, what did she tell you?
ZAHQWANDRA: She told me, you would spray my backpack with your cologne spray, cuz you hoped the smell would make me like you.
ME: Oh. Really? She said that?
ZAHQANDRA: Yeah. And the thing is…I don’t see you in that way. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re a great guy and the sweetest person I’ve met, but I only see you as a friend. I’m sorry.

I could’ve told Zahqwandra the truth and that the whole cologne spray was a teasing tactic, but I decided not to. Somehow it didn’t seem right. She was successful and whether or not her success was based on truth or deceit, Zahqwandra totally deserved all the achievements in her life. I did wonder if keeping the truth from Zahqwandra was bad, but then I decided not. Every day we lie. We tell lies to protect ourselves and the reputation of others. Of course, every now and then, the day arrives when someone finally decides to tell the truth, but maybe we don’t need to know it, because sometimes isn't it the little white lies that are told not to hurt, but to help make life more pleasant, ok?