I told a woman that a few years ago, when I lived in Knoxville (I've never lived in Knoxville), I had the worst job ever where I was responsible for feeding the tigers at the zoo.
The lie crept up on me so naturally-- I was having a rough day, and I really didn't feel like listening to this patient kvetch about her horrible, horrible job. Like, really, lady? You whine about answering phones at a dentist's office; I sit in a cubicle while smelly people with pustules whine at me. I win.
(Side note: I hate whining, but I don't actually hate my job. It's kind of fascinating sometimes, and I doubt I could mine as much material if I worked at Books-A-Million or something)
Anyway, to hush her up, I came out with my tiger story. And just like that, I felt better-- better than coming home to a glass of wine.
"It was nasty. You had hang around the enclosure to make sure they actually had appetites and weren't sick or anything, and every now and then, you'd see a random goat leg go flying past. It was sick; I've never been able to look at cats the same way."
Anyone who was alive in the 1990's should realize that I ripped off that scene from Jurassic Park, and just substituted a tiger for a T-Rex. If I'd been a little more quick-witted, I would've worked in a way to be sitting in a Jeep during a monsoon. Hell, if she'd let me talk long enough, I would've been chased by Velociraptors in the zoo kitchen.
The woman was, (understandably?) stunned. She stammered out something about the majesty of the hunt, but because I am undeniably at my most bad-ass when telling egregious lies, I cut her off.
"It's hunting a goat! Have you ever met a goat? They're not particularly quick-- it's not a Most Dangerous Game scenario. I'm pretty sure my terrier puppy could take one down if she had a chance."
Lie: won. Day: salvaged.
Anatomy of a Lie
Like I said, I don't regret the lie. However, in the spirit of self-improvement and karmic cleansing, I did break down the lie, and attempted to analyze exactly why the events unfolded as they did.
I'm not going to analyze why I hate whining, though. I should hope that that's self-explanatory.
I also hope drawing on Jurassic Park in everyday conversation is as obvious to everyone else as it is to me.
Anyway, the notion of feeding zoo animals came from earlier in the afternoon, when I told some co-workers about the time I spent the day feeding penguins at the Aquarium (a very true and very awesome story). Because there's nothing un-awesome about feeding penguins, I needed a more gruesome angle.
And as it so often happens, the T-Rex scene was lurking in the back of my mind. The two recesses of my imagination came together... and it was glorious.
1 comments:
Post a Comment