Allow me to let you in on the thought process of a pathological liar, and some of the characteristics therein that make that classification distinct from just a guy with a lot to hide.
I told a simple lie of moderate signifigance yesterday, so I'll use that as my example. After my mom left for work, I couldn't get my Jeep to start. So I called my boss and told him, and he said he would call back after he took care of something. So I went back to sleep on the couch where I could hear the phone, but he never called back. I didn't go to work yesterday. When mom got home, I came up with a story to tell her. I needed to tell her about the car so we could get it fixed, so I did say I couldn't get it started. But instead of the rest of the truth, I told her that my boss sent one of my coworkers over to pick me up and I worked a regular day and he brought me home around three. Later I made up some details about what we did, based on my assumption of what probably got done. It was easy to fabricate, since that was what I was working on actually happening when I was expecting my boss to call back; the hard part was coming up with a reason I had cooked a can of ravioli since I don't do that unless I'm home for lunch. I had already stated I got home at three, so I just said we had very little for lunch and I figured supper would be pretty late again, and she didn't suspect anything.
The lying part isn't hard - like I said, it's always easy to work out the story, and I can improvise and play a part well enough that I can keep up a lie and still be natural. The hard part is figuring out why I'm so content to tell complete fabrications for no reason. Before she got home I decided it would do me no good to lie, and I might as well just tell her what happened, but when she got home, I didn't even think about it. I didn't even wait for her to ask about my day; I just started rambling off a complete untruth as soon as she came in. Anyway, I really didn't stand to gain anything by covering up the truth; she wouldn't have been mad or anything, from what I imagine I know of her. The closest I came to having it come back and bite me was this morning when she dropped me off at work; I was afraid she might start talking to my boss or somebody else about yesterday and I'd be exposed, but I managed to make her let me out at the top of the driveway so she wouldn't drive down to the shop. So I got off completely clean, and I'm totally clear; I even threw in a few references to what we did yesterday when I got home today, just cause I can. But it all comes back to the fact that I had no reason to do it. Even now, I'm no better off for having told her what I told her, and in fact I may yet run into some bumps because I tried to cover my tracks.
The only thing I can come up with is that I'm more comfortable in the lie. Even though I know it doesn't matter or change anything, I still feel better if, in her perception of the truth, I went to work yesterday. I can deal with my mistake (and is was my mistake for not calling back after it had been long enough), and it doesn't matter to anybody, my boss least of all, but I need her to have a certain perception of me. It's either that or just for the sport of seeing what I can get away with. Either way being here brings out the worst in me. I shouldn't have to put on a total farce just to carry on a conversation, and I don't think I'm supposed to be able to, especially not without even thinking about. Oh well, I'll be better when I go back home and meet a bunch of strangers so I can be myself.
I also randomly mentioned to Danny that they're now issuing night sticks and mace to inner city high school teachers. It was a joke, but he believed me, so I went with it.
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