My Peg Leg

I'm going to say right off that I do not condone lying. But that's because I'm now an adult with children. When I was younger and life was hilarious, so was lying. I never told any harmful lies, because I knew that it was wrong. But funny lies I embraced.

I was out with my friends late one night, cruising Main Street in the lonely town of Centerville. We decided to look for adventure, and went to the only logical place in town: the grocery store. Hoping to spice things up a bit, we thought it would be hilarious to park in the last stall of the parking lot. I know, we were totally living it up, right? Anyway, as we skipped towards the store, we were stopped by a group of guys. Jackpot! We flirted and smiled, and then one of my greatest dreams came true: I was asked for MY phone number! Nothing could have topped the excitement I felt, and I was going to fulfill the rest of my dream. I pulled out a paper and pen, wrote down some digits, and colored little hearts around them. I smiled as I handed the boy the paper, and seductively said, "Call me!"

"I can't believe you just did that!" my friends laughed as we skipped away, invigorated from love.

I laughed even harder. "I didn't! It was the number for time and temperature!"

I always knew that I wasn't the type who guys actively singled out from a crowd, so what I did really didn't matter. My sister, a genuine guy-magnet, took me along with her and her friends one day. Meeting a guy was just going to happen, there was no denying it. And so, we came up with a brilliant plan. For the night, my name was going to be Bertha.

Excited butterflies fluttered in my stomach when we were finally approached at the mall by an adorable guy. Whether he wanted to or not, he was going to ask me my name. Forget the gorgeous girls when an ugly duckling has the audacity to be named Bertha! I held back the laughter as he forced polite conversation with me, obviously intrigued by my unusual(and can I add hideous?) name. It was unfortunately the most attention a guy ever paid to me when out with these super models. No one would give a hoot to a girl named Kim. See how brilliant our plan was?

When I got to college, I decided that I needed to change my last name. Frye was so, well, gross. I needed something that shouted, "Look at me!" After much contemplation and tons of practice, I occasionally introduced myself as Kimberly Alzerezgredeldedski (pronounced Al-zerez-gredel-ded-ski). "No way!" guys would laugh, knowing I was full of it. But I smugly spelled it as fast as the letters could be spoken, giving the full letter count as additional proof. (Nineteen, in case you were wondering, even though now you're probably going to count. Aren't you?) "I thought your last name was Frye!" they would protest. Luckily, I was getting good at making up stories on the spot.

"My Mom is Polish, and married my step-dad. Technically, my name is hyphenated, but it's way too long, so I just go by Frye." I smiled. And then, after a week, I would laugh and confess the truth. It was too good a lie to be prolonged. The funny thing about this is that my roommate told her younger brother about my fake last name, and he loved it so much that he ended up naming his hamster Alzerezgredeldedski. Isn't that wonderful?

I'm convinced that lying for fun was genetic. When I was in high school, my parents went to Subway to pick up some dinner. They came back ecstatic. "We just met the perfect guy for you!" my Dad gushed.

"He was so cute!" Mom interjected.

"We told him all about you," Dad continued with an enormous grin. "We told him to look for you at school. I told him you were single...and had a peg leg!" He and Mom screamed with laughter, and I considered whether or not I should be annoyed or delighted. I'd have to wait until I went to school.

When I found my best friend before school, I told her the drama my parents had lovingly created for me, and we decided to play along. We searched the halls, and when I finally found Subway boy, I made sure to hobble a little as we passed. Life and lying were definitely wonderful.

So what brought about this random post, you may be asking yourself? As I was cutting our lawn today, I noticed that I wasn't cutting in straight lines, but curved lines. I ended up having a conversation in my mind about what I would tell someone if they questioned my "method."

"Oh, didn't you know?" I'd ask while looking at them as if they knew absolutely nothing about landscaping. "When you cut with a curve, it actually makes your yard look bigger!" And then I'd anxiously look around the neighborhood for the next several months, and smile as everyone's lawns were cut at a curve.




Maybe I need to start lying again, and see what kinds of fun I can create. But if anyone asks, it's all true. I promise.