The stupid truth

A few months ago, in Paris, I did something that didn’t make any sense. I was in a taxi going home after a party. It must have been around 2 or 3 in the morning and, of course, I wasn’t what we could call sober.
When the taxi arrived in my neighborhood, I thought aloud “Argh I’m hungry, I hope nobody is home”.
“ Oh, your parents?” asked the driver.
“No, I live with three roommates, they are probably partying so I can be alone and make noise if I want!” I answered smiling.
“How long have you been living there?”
“Mmh just a couple of months. But it is really cool; my roommates are great friends of mine. We have a lot of fun”
We chatted about real estate and homes until we arrived in front of my door. I paid him, said goodbye and shut the door.

I don’t have any roommates. I live with my father who is almost never home, and I was about to meet my boyfriend who practically lives with me.
Why did I make up that story? I laugh each time I think about that night, it felt so normal to describe my fake housing situation to a man I would never see again in my life. I could have gone on and on about it, it was so weird. I guess sometimes you want to imagine another life and talk about it to strangers. I was actually kind of proud the taxi driver believed me. But why wouldn’t he have, it was the stupidest lie ever.

When I told that story to my friends, they laughed at me a lot, before confessing that all of them had done something like that before. Telling they were at that school or doing that job. My cousin once pretended he was an actor in a famous French sitcom. Maybe to experience the reactions he would get if he were living this life. Yes it is very stupid, but sometimes the dumbest things are freaking hilarious.

 

Lutèce

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