Commit to the Lie (Part 1)

Look, before you get all judgmental on me, just hear me out on this. I don’t condone lying (lieing? laying?), but there are certain circumstances where it is more beneficial to just commit to the lie than to come clean with the truth. I have 2 such stories. Let’s start with my story, shall we?
There I was, a sophomore in college rocking an awesome fake ID. I had gotten it from a friend’s sister and we had the same first name. That is KEY. One time a bouncer was suspicious and asked my friend what my name was, thinking she would default to my actual name and not the one on what he thought was a fake ID. She immediately said my name and BAM – no exes on my hands, drinks for all! Ok, that’s not the story. I just got a little sidetracked.
Back to it. I’m thinking I’m pretty hot sh*t due to my fake so I am designated as the alcohol purchaser. No big deal, it works in bars and gas stations, and those awesome beer drive-thrus the wonderful people in Ohio operate. Why wouldn’t it work in a liquor store? Right? So I go in with my list of orders of only to finest in alcoholic beverages: Franzia boxed wine, Zima, Bacardi 151, you know, classy stuff.

White Zin in a box screams, "I'm over 21." No?

I get in line and see this guy I had a crush on and I’m all, “Oh hey! What are you up to tonight? Oh me, well you know, I have to buy everyone’s alcohol. We’re going to pre game at our place and then head up town.” (Pretending it’s such a chore, but secretly feeling awesome.) So I get up to the front of the line and the woman behind the cash register checks my things and then of course says, “Can I see your ID?” Of course you can ma’am. Here you go! As I glance at my crush so he knows, yes, I am really doing this. Then I hear it. She says my REAL birthday out loud! What? That can’t be right. The one on the fake says 1978, not 1982. WTH? I look at my wallet and realize I still have the fake ID.
I gave her my real ID.
Now I am going to be embarrassed in front of the 10 people in line behind me, my crush, and I will have to tell my friends in the car I was unsuccessful in purchasing our “party favors.” I am literally a deer in the headlights. No hiding. I just stood there. She reads my birth date again, then turns around to the MASSIVE sign behind the register that says, “If you were born after January 21, 1982, you cannot buy alcohol in this state.” (Remember, I am a summer baby and still 20 at this time.) I am about to lose my cool and just grab my ID and leave when she shrugs her shoulders and says, “This new year really messes up my math.” O.M.G. she is actually going to sell me this alcohol! She must have figured, no self-respecting person would actually give someone at a liquor store an underage ID. In my head I am screaming with excitement thinking, pay the lady and get the hell out of there. Pay the lady and get the hell out of there. No, don’t even wait for the change, just GET OUT!!
As I left the store I still had the deer in the headlight look on my face. I got in the car with my friends and said, “We must get out of here immediately before that lady realizes she just sold Mad Dog 20/20 to a minor. We also must find a new liquor store to go to from now on.”

So in this case, committing to the lie worked for me. I was 2.5 seconds away from caving and telling the truth, but I didn’t and it worked. Use this as a lesson for your kids, no need to thank me. Another story on committing to the lie coming soon!