My big fat bed of lies

One of the funny things about classes here is that I’m in a program for foreign students learning French. This means that:

A-Encounters with real French people are few and far between.

B-French is the only language we all have in common, and none of us are actually fluent.

As a result, conversation is usually kind of awkward. Everyone in my classes seems pretty nice, but for the most part, we all stick to small talk.  This morning I got to class a little early. I was the first one there, and a few minutes later this Romanian kid named Octavian came in. We made eye contact, smiled, and he asked how I was. I responded that I was fine, just a little tired. You can imagine my surprise when he asked me why I was tired. Real conversation?! I was taken aback, and as a result I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head, which happened to be a lie.

Me: “I went out last night. I got home really late.”

Why did I just lie to this perfectly nice young man? I wasn’t out late last night. Maybe it just seemed easier than telling the truth-Host mom and I chowed down on cheese and chocolate and I was tucked up in bed by 10pm…one of my many grandmotherly habits. But I can’t back out now. By this point I was committed to my lie, and I felt that the only thing I could do was just go with it.

Octavian, the Romanian: “Oh…on a Monday? Where did you go? A discotheque? (club)”

Me: “No, no. I am a terrible dancer, trust me. I was just out at a pub.”

Finally a bit of truth thrown in. But a pub on a Monday night? Now he probably just thinks I’m an alcoholic.

Please let this be the end of the interrogation!  

Octavian, the Romanian: “Oh, there are some great pubs in Old Nice. Which one did you go to?”

Curses!

Me: “I don’t remember the name. It was on Rue de la Prefecture. You know there are a bunch over there.”

Octavian, the Romanian: “Right. So where are you from?”

From here, the conversation went relatively smoothly. But it’s slightly disconcerting knowing that the only real conversation I’ve had with someone has left them with the impression that I’m a drunk American girl who can’t dance. Almost none of those things are true!

It’s 10pm and I’m exhausted. Hoping for a good night’s sleep in my bed of lies! 

Have you guys seen this optical illusion? The word "Liar"... or a man's face?