Would I Lie to You? (Part-1)

Would I lie to You? (Part 1)

At present, I scream at vaginas for a living, but prior to this little calling, I had many, many jobs. At one point, I sold cars, and by sold cars I mean I sold one--to my mom. I had the counter-productive habit of talking people out of purchases, sighting their budget, and being reasonable with their money. The guys who owned the car lot overlooked this bad habit, because they figured it was nice to just have someone they could trust to lock the door at night. I took the job because my father often bellowed arrogantly that I should NEVER trust anyone who sold cars. That fatherly advice was right up there with love God, and study hard, and drive safely. He hated used car salesman. So, naturally, I became one.
I made it clear on the interview, that my hours were limited, that I was a terrible liar, and that I really wasn't the best driver. When that interview ended with 'you're hired!' I thought it might be a casting call for some sort of reality tv show. They handed me W2's and I-9's, while I looked for secret microphones. The lot was small, the door barely locked, and we were in the middle of Nowheresville, Maryland. I concluded that this place was definitely a decoy for drug trafficing, or racketeering, but I shrugged at this and did my schoolwork.
Robert, the red-haired mechanic from West Pennsylvania, and if you know anything about West Pennsylvania, you know he owned a pick-up truck, would ask me out every single day. He would spit super sexy, super alluring, lines like "I'm not racist" when he'd ask me out on a date. Continuing with my schoolwork was all I could do to contain my fever for this particular smooth-talker. I wondered many, many times that maybe if I tried thanking him kindly for not lynching minorities, but mentioned that I myself was in the process of becoming a racist, once I finished all the paperwork, perhaps that would help quell the situation somewhat.
He fixed my car one day, and was able to guilt me into a "cocktail," at a restaurant down the street from where we worked. I reminded him that I was too young to drink, and also too young to use words like "cocktail," and that this was not a date. It was, rather, an employee field trip, and we were going dutch. Robert was 35, I was 20.
I played with my phone, and ate french fries, while he droned on about being a redneck, and how he didn't see color when he looked at me. I happened to see many colors when I looked at him, but the ones I wanted to see most were the beautiful reds and blues of flashing police cars lights. Where the heck is Spiderman when you truly need him? He also profusely complimented my eyebrows. I prayed for a quick and quiet death.
At the end our field trip, he attempted to give me a non-racist kiss. I realized it was time to put my foot down. I, after all, had indeed appreciated the oil change or whatever, and I'm always trying to support people who think they might believe in civil rights, but there really is only so much I'm going to do for the cause. I made it clear that other than a handshake, and maybe a creepy photo of my eyebrows, there just wasn't much more in the future for us.

Comments 6 comments

seanorjohn profile image

seanorjohn 6 years ago

Love your writing. Your scores are going to rocket sooner than you think.Iread your hub on miss ursula and you have great observational skills and a unique, quirky writing style.Hope you get the recognition you deserve. Glad to be a follower. look forward to reading more. Don't feel obliged to follow in return. I write whimsical nonsense.Not sure what I am doing. Ho


ahostagesituation profile image

ahostagesituation 6 years ago Author

You got me. Now I wanna follow you because you told me not to. Crafty! Thanks, very much btw!


always exploring profile image

always exploring 6 years ago from Southern Illinois

I,m hooked.

Very gifted writer


ahostagesituation profile image

ahostagesituation 6 years ago Author

you're kind always exploring, thanks.


kittythedreamer profile image

kittythedreamer 5 years ago from the Ether

i'm hooked, too! love the way you write! HILARIOUS, again by the way...voted up and AWESOME. God, this sounds like so many Maryland experiences I've had growing up. The funny thing is...you can't ever truly escape redneck-dom. They thrive here in Florida just as well as in Maryland! How about in the CA? Do you come across a lot of camoflauge flannel wearing toothless hunters out there? :)


ahostagesituation profile image

ahostagesituation 5 years ago Author

Hi Kitty! Thanks!! We have everything in CA--including rednecks. But it seems the rednecks here kinda get that they shouldn't be rednecks--that redneck is not, nor should it ever be a political party. Toothless hunters? My brother calls it animal Iraq. Thanks again for reading!

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