Frequent Liar
September 4th, 2020
Starring: The Flyer (35-45)
An airport gate. The Flyer sits, awaiting boarding to begin:
I’ve lied on planes for almost a decade now.
It’s saved me, really. All the travel would’ve burnt me out long ago. Then there’s my job itself, which amounts to a slow IV drip full of meh. But I keep with it. For the journeys.
The lies, they aren’t big. Nothing unbelievable. I sit in coach, look at the person next to me, and ask myself, “who would they think I could be?” No malintent. We’re all gullible enough anyways.
It’ll begin innocuously. A shared sentiment about the weather or flight status, asking to borrow a pen for my seat back pocket crossword. They’ll need help with a carry-on, or ask to get up so they can use the bathroom. It rolls into something. I never force it. But when it comes, I’m prepared. The fun is in surprising myself:
They pull out a little bound notebook, flips to a page, and reads:
December 9th, 2012: Detroit to Atlanta. Minor league baseball announcer. Kenneth said he was a Braves fan, then fell asleep five minutes before takeoff.
March 2nd, 2017: San Antonio to Miami-Dade. Landscaping company owner. Explained how my neighbor went Vegan and gained weight.
July 4th, 2009: Newark to Heathrow. Completing post-doc. Mentioned my paternal grandfather fought at Normandy.
February 11th, 2020: Vancouver to Denver. Early-retiree scrub tech. Passed gas, but played it off like it was the jetfuel.
…
It’s sociopathic. But far better than succumbing to the work coma. I’ve been asleep the last ten years, but this is my heartbeat. Each lie is a life I could have. Maybe sometime, I’ll wake up and live one.
The boarding call announcement comes over the intercom.
Until then, it’s KC to San Fran.
They wheel off their carry-on, scan their pass, and disappear down the jet bridge.