Two Truths & A Lie

I like my life. Pretty much everything about it. Even my name. But let's not forget I'm an actress. So sometimes...I like to lie and pretend I'm someone else.

Let's also not forget we're in NYC. A very neighbor-friendly city where people like to chat you up on the street and the subway or in line at Whole Foods. And as a young woman, you just want to be careful that you don't give out too much information to a stranger. Unless you want him to stalk you or take you out on an awkward date.

So here I am in Whole Foods. (Which describing that scene could be a blog post in itself because that store is massive, crowded, and overwhelming.) I'm picking up snacks last-minute for a friend's house party as everyone else is stocking up on organic, free-range, soy products for the impending blizzard. I have 1,2,3,4,5 things. An express line would be ideal. But I get herded like cattle into what the salesboy is calling "the checkout line" at the same time as 12 other cattle. Five minutes later, as I'm holding my 5 items awkwardly, still in line, a voice to my left says, "Hey, do you mind me asking...if you've only got 5 items, why didn't you opt for the 10 Items or Less Lane?"

"Oh, I didn't know there was an express line. I just got shoved into this one."

He laughs at me. "Yea, you can save yourself time next time. You're the perfect candidate for that line."

I laugh at him. "Yea, I don't really ever shop here, so I didn't know that."

Which was also - I guess - my invitation for him to continue speaking. "Oh, where do you normally shop?"

It's Saturday. We're in a very long line. I'm in a good mood. I like talking. I like people. So...I decide I will let this man flirt with me. But I will change a few things about myself so he's not actually flirting with me.

"TriBeCa. That's where I live." (Lie. That's where I would want to live. If I become a famous actress or go back in time and was reborn as a trustfund baby.)

"Oh, are you a student at NYU?"

Yes, I still look 20!, I think, as a coyly respond, "No, not anymore. I work in advertising." (Lie. And please don't ask me where...Oooh, I can prevent that!) "What about you?"

And this goes on, and we make comments and jokes on the line and Whole Foods and the blizzard, and he asks me where I'm going tonight.

"A friend's house for a get together." (Truth.)
"Where?"
"Uptown." (Lie.) Are you kidding - I'd be stupid to reveal my evening's location. I have a prestigious degree in Adverting, after all.

Aww, I know where this conversation is going. The poor guy is going to ask for my number because we've had a pleasant conversation and I'm not going to give it to him because he thinks I'm somebody else. Even if we went out and fell in love I'd eventually have to reveal my true identity and he'd never forgive me for lying. I can always resort to "I have a boyfriend" if it comes up. Then his heart won't crumble into 10 pieces or less here in the checkout line.

But he doesn't ask for my number. Instead, at that moment when I'm about to proceed to the cash register, like a gentleman he holds out his hand and says "I'm Rob. Here, let me give you my card." He's a senior assistant district attorney. "Give me a call if you're ever in trouble...."

"Taylor." (Lie.)

"Taylor. You look like a Taylor. Good talking to you, Taylor."

Need I prove why I love my life? (Truth.)