Pros at cons

It's Tuesday, everybody, and you know what that means? Yeah, me neither. Too bad, I was kinda hoping you had an answer for that one. Oh well, maybe next time. I do know that it's my friend Jason Silver's birthday, so we've at least got that going for us.

In a post last week, I touched on a very special moment that sometimes shared between two people. It is the moment in which one person realizes that the other is gullible, and then immediately begins to take advantage of that fact. 'Tis a glorious moment indeed, and I hope you've all experienced that at some point in your lifetimes.

My homey Rockabye and I shared one of those moments with a poor, unsuspecting fellow freshman at UCSB. That, my friends, is the topic of the day. Rockabye is more outwardly friendly than I, and this came in handy during those first few awkward weeks of college. I was nervous to make the wrong friendship early and be stuck in an ill-fitting group for four years, not yet realizing that things didn't really work that way. Rockabye, on the other hand, was very good at saying hi to people, introducing us, and making contacts that may or may not turn into friendships. One such contact was Zoe, a nice young lady who lived in the same residence hall as us.

We met her in one of the common rooms of the building and started shooting the shit. (Man, that's an interesting phrase, isn't it?) After about a minute of chatting, she asked, "Are you guys brothers or something?" "Yep," I answered. "Cool," she said, foolishly choosing to believe me. We were very confused as to why she didn't follow up with a "Really?" or something of that nature. She didn't even ask the obvious question, "So, you guys are twins then?" Disirregardless, it was at that moment that we realized that if she bought that so easily, we could have some fun with this new relationship.

Rockabye...how shall I put this...sometimes isn't the most subtle communicator. I was as eager as he was to lead Zoe far down the path of deception, but I wanted to be a little more scientific with my approach. He, on the other hand, would say things like, "Hey, Mom called earlier," whenever she was nearby. Normally that could compromise the integrity of the bullshitting, but she just kept believing us. Naturally, that meant we could kick it up a notch.

The following week, we were playing ping pong in the rec room when Zoe came in. She laughed a little at our antics and commented on how siblings can be so competitive. "You have no idea," I said. "He used to make the varsity teams of all the sports in high school and then tell the coach not to let me on." "That's horrible!" she said. "It's ok," I said, making it out like I had convinced myself of that fact years earlier, "I found other stuff to keep me occupied." I was about to mention drama stuff that I actually did, but Rockabye beat me to the punch. "He's a chef," he interjected. "Really!" she said, clearly intrigued. I nodded. "How cool!" I was now a chef.

Another week went by, and we ran into Zoe and a friend of hers at the University Center. The "UCen" had the bookstore and a bunch of restaurants, and we had just come from picking up some Wendy's. "Hey guys," she said. Glancing at the fast food bag, she said, "I bet you can whip something better than that up." Before I could answer, Rockabye chimed in. "Are you kidding? He was on the cover of a magazine because of his creations." She turned me to me, very excited by this news. "What magazine?" she asked. Thinking quickly, I said, "Oh, it's called Kitchen Cuisine Quarterly...it's got a really small readership." No red flags whatsoever. "That's awesome!" she said. I shrugged it off, because the fame of being a known young chef didn't really get to my head. "Yeah, I really splashed onto the scene with my pastries, but I've branched out a little into the tart world," I added, just because I could. A minute later, Rockabye and I were walking back to our building, laughing at how easy this unnecessary lie was.

Then one day, we were really tested. My parents came up for the day to see me, have some lunch, and take in the beauty of SB. I was walking them through the UCen, and I saw a smiling Zoe walking toward us. "Oh shit," I thought. Without time to quickly explain to my parents (who would certainly have played along), I had to greet her. "Hey Zoe," I said. "Are these your parents?" she asked. "Yep. Mom and Dad, this is Zoe, she lives in the same building as us." I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, but then Zoe spoke again: "Where's your brother?" she asked. "Your brother!" my mom repeated, laughing a little. Zoe's face turned confused. "He's busy doing something right now, but we're gonna catch up with him soon," I said quickly. "Ok," she said, still slightly confused. We left, and I explained the whole situation to my parents.

I told Rockabye what happened, and that our cover was probably blown. The next day though, he told me he'd taken care of it. He told Zoe that one of those two she met was actually a step-parent, and that he had been with the other set of parents. They didn't get along with each other, so we split up to show them all around. It all made sense to her, but I couldn't help but start to feel a little bad about all the deception.

A couple of more months passed, and the time finally came to tell her the truth. Sure, we could've gone on for our entire college careers, but it was getting less fun. Lo and behold, we ran into her on the second floor of the UCen, and with only a couple of days left before the break, we know it was time. "Hey guys!" she said. "Hey Zoe. We need to tell you something," I said. "We're not brothers," Rockabye blurted out. She stood there, staring at us for a second before smiling and saying, "Shut up! Very funny, guys." "No, seriously, we're not brothers," I said. "Right," she said dismissively. "We swear. Here, look at our drivers licenses. I'm six months older than him," Rockabye said. "And we have different last names too," I added. She looked at our birthdays and then back up to us. It suddenly occurred to me for the first time that she could be very pissed off about our months-long deceit and that possibility scared me. "Wow," she said. "You guys really fooled me. Great job. Seriously, you really pulled that off well. Nice job. You guys are good." We were surprised by this response. "Thanks, I guess," I said. She smiled, wished us a good break, and said she's see us later.

We did end up seeing her often throughout the next three years, and she was always very nice and pleasant. She was actually quite intelligent too, which I wouldn't have guessed from my initial interactions with her. It's not often that a long and evolving lie ends up just fine for both sides, so I realize how lucky we were with that. I wonder how the girls who thought my name was Peter Rabbit would feel if I came clean after 12 or 13 years...

So, that's the story of my longest con job. Gentle readers, what's the most ridunkulous thing you've ever convinced someone to believe about you? You're a deceitful bunch, so I'm sure you've got some good stories in there. Feel free to either comment or send the story to ptklein@gmail.com. Thanks, and have a great Tuesday, everyone.