My Pants Were Not Alight, So That's Something

Monday morning I was chased by a woman with no pants out of the Circle K where Monroe turns into Boulevard on Ponce. This was, as my teen daughters pointed out to me later, entirely my own fault.

I always forget something on the way to work on Mondays, and this week it was my frozen waffles left in the toaster. After dropping the girls off at school, I asked the husband to pull into the Circle K so I could grab some mini donuts and other horrible to eat things that could get me through the day.

The woman with no pants was huddled on the concrete outside the Circle K and asked me for a donation. We just made last month’s rent, and the car needed repairs, and we’re in foreclosure on the house that won’t sell, so I did one of those white lies and told the beggar I had no cash.

Then she evidently saw me pay for the junk food breakfast through the window with a twenty.

Full on, in the store, “MA’AM AS YOU SEE I HAVE NO PANTS, CAN I PLEASE HAVE A DOLLAR FOR BREAKFAST.”

I panicked. She chased me to the car, where the husband was waiting, oblivious to the entire conflict. We got out of the situation without harm to anything but my sense of self. It was a hell of a Monday though, starting raw with conflict. I admit I lost my temper a few hours later when an accountant at work demanded to see my credit card statements PROVING the receipts, the ones I had provided for the Jekyll island trip (the one with chemical plant explosions, a hurricane, and goddamn studies on domestic terrorism) came from my own funds. Of course, the receipts came from my own funds and if my employer had paid me back in a timely fashion, I wouldn’t be short on rent, but I couldn’t say that.

I did calm down and hopefully didn’t damage my rep at work too much. I then had to download credit card statements, redact all the personal info, and reload them into a computer system, all so I could get paid back for a rental car, gasoline, and two trips to Arby’s. I need the money spent on the work trip paid back to me. I’d hate to end up outside a Circle K with no pants.

“You shouldn’t have lied to her, mom.” Said one of the teens when I explained my hard day over dinner. “That whole thing was on you.”

“Yeah mom,” said the other. “If you hadn’t lied, she wouldn’t have chased you.”

Fuck me, I’ve raised them with my bizarre attachment to truth, and the teens are right. I shouldn’t lie to anyone, regardless of their personal dress code. It was my fault for telling the pantless woman I had no cash. It was my fault for taking on debt for the work trip I couldn’t really afford. If I had been honest and admitted up front that I was struggling to make rent to both the beggar and my employer, both these situations could have been avoided. I had too much pride though and lied to both.

This was my weekly reminder that nice white lies – the kind some still insist I should use to just “get along” don’t really ever actually help me get along. By telling the truth to my employer before the Jekyll trip, I could have avoided that strange conference all together, and an awful lot of stress. By telling the truth to the beggar, I could have avoided being chased out of the circle K clutching nasty snack food. The last I saw of the pantless woman, she was stumbling across the crosswalk to the Dunkin’ Donuts on Ponce. I hope someone there gave her a better breakfast than the one I crammed down in the car.

One baldface lie (I have no cash) and one lie by omission (not speaking up about my personal financial situation) hurt me Monday. I’m writing this as a reminder to myself about being more truthful in the month of December, the month when white lies and omissions are expected. Some people live their whole lives lying through the holidays, but it’s never worked for me. So if you wonder why I might not be at your holiday party, or why I stayed home from the gathering you invited me to, know it’s because I didn’t want to lie to you, or risk a lie of omission. The parties I attend and the people I visit are the ones I know who can tolerate honesty. It’s not a big group.