I’m now going to reveal a secret about myself that I may regret exposing. When I need something from someone whom I do not know, especially if getting this something may require a lie, and double especially if this someone is a dude I do two things.
- I make a self effacing comment usually about how stupid I am.
- I speak with a slight southern accent
Neither of these acts is particularly conscious but I suspect that deep down in my manipulative little heart some part of me thinks (rightly) that the most unscary person least likely to pull one over on anyone is a nice young southern girl.
Today in route back to the east coast I had to return a rental car that my cousin Adam had picked up but could not return – a car which I had no claim to but had driven 200 miles ACROSS STATE LINES anyway which likely violates 75 or so laws. Seriously, I am such a bad ass. When I got to the car rental return parking lot at the Reno airport, stopping briefly in the middle of the damn road to twice reread a sign claiming I should drive on the left side of the street and shake my head in confusion, I hopped out and smiled sweetly at the aged Asian gentleman manning the return station. And then I launching into my schpeel. “You confused me there with driving on the left side of the road! My little head nearly exploded!” “Oh no!” he laughed (already caught in my trap). He checked the car (yes I put $50 of gas in the damn thing, and yes I am super fucking glad to live in NY and have next to no knowledge about just how expensive gasoline is.) and as he printed out my receipt glanced down and said, “Hey, this isn’t you…” (apparently he isn’t open to the kind of progressive naming that results in a girl named Adam). “Oh no, That’s my huuuuuuusband, he checked with the company and they said it’d be just fine if I returned the car,” I drawled. “Of course it is! You have a great trip honey!”
CIA ain't got nothing on me y'all.
