Member-only story
Sex, Lies, and Kebabs
People lie for sex; I pretend I don’t eat kebabs.
Someone once said that everybody lies. Maybe that’s true. But I’m a crappy liar. I mean, I’ve lied in the past, but in a torture situation, I’d be the first to take some cyanide because there would be no point in someone trying to interrogate me. I find it ridiculously difficult to do.
Even in a situation where I am telling the truth, and I even suspect that someone thinks that I’m not telling the truth, I adopt the characteristics of someone who is. This is most likely because these questions are awkward anyway, but what situation do I not make awkward with my neurosis and anxiety, eh?
I heard recently, although I can’t remember exactly where (so I’m not sure how accurate it is), that a major reason that humans evolved the ability to lie was primarily for sex.
When I heard this, I instantly dismissed it, being somewhat more hopeful for the human condition, but then on reflection, my jaw slackened ever-so-slightly, and a cold dead look came from behind my eyes.
I thought back on a lot of interactions that I’ve had in the past where at least one person was weighing up the potential for sex, and I could pinpoint several exaggerations and downright lies that were used in an attempt to get me into bed.
