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The Wandering Foodie — Travels of a Culinary Adventurer — Page 740
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Today, I told a lie. It was one of those insanely stupid lies that you immediately regret spewing from your mouth as soon as you say it. One where you know that the person listening to you lie takes it as fact immediately, but in the back of your mind, you know that they WILL find out. I was going to apply for temporary work at this place and I was talking to this woman. We had a perfectly wonderful conversation about my finance degree, my upcoming GE job, how I was friends with her son’s friends who I played lacrosse against in HS, her daughter’s finance internships and upcoming job with Citigroup on Park Avenue in New York City . . . she said a word and I could give a dissertation on the etymology of it. She knows my dad. She’s the freakin’ owner of the place.

Some girl walks in during my interview and makes small talk with me. She was one of the people I knew at the place I was recently fired from. She leaves and the interviewer lady asks me about that last position. Gave her my schpeil about how their management doesn’t know their rectum from their ulna, and she asks. “Well, was it the end of the assignment there or did they let you go?”

Now I was thinking to myself, “should I tell her I was fired? Hell no . . . She wants to hire me, she’s not going to want some reject that can’t file papers without complaining.” And that was it. I lied.

I walked out of the place, and she called the person at my previous staffing company (who put me at the position I was fired from) by her first name.

Screwed. Absolutely screwed.

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