I had a contractor come to give me an estimate about a year ago. He asked me how much I could afford. Not only did I give him an answer, but the number I gave him was actually for the whole project, not just the part of it I was asking an estimate for. Not surprisingly, the estimate I got was only a few dollars under the number I’d given him, twice the ballpark figure he’d given at first.
(During the discussion, he was throwing out a lot of terms I didn’t recognize. I stopped and asked him what “DG” was. “Decayed granite,” he said. I suppose he meant decomposed granite. I just googled “decayed granite” and it gave me lots of links about decomposed granite. And one that did use the term “decayed granite” but that was from Texas, so I don’t think it counts. Again, am I being too “Sheldon” here? How bright does a guy need to be to spread rocks?)
I knew better, really I did. But, well, he asked me. What was I supposed to say? It’s not that I can’t lie, but I’m not good at it. I have to decide on it ahead of time and practice, and even then, I can’t always go through with it.
I love the scene in the Big Bang Theory where Sheldon is trying to cover up and follows each invented story with “And that’s a lie.” When he finally confesses the truth and ends with a very gracious comment that he’s happy about how it all turned out, Leonard says “And that’s a lie.” Sheldon responds, “Yep. Great big fat one.” And I envied Sheldon’s social skills for trying the white lie and not confessing until prodded. I probably wouldn’t have done it. The attempt to lie, followed by instant confession, that sounded just like me.
I hate to tell anyone about how hard it is for me to lie because then they think I’m “Holier than thou” and looking down on them. Which is ridiculous. I envy them their ability to lie so well. I wish they could teach me. It would sure make it easier to deal with contractors, salespeople and other authority figures.