Ask Me No Questions

“Hi, I’m Jason.” He extended his hand. “The Argonauts are outside with the boat.” ‘Shut up! You dork!’

“I’m Jill…” She took his hand and glanced around conspiratorially. “Parking that thing must be a… pain.”

He laughed at her joke. “That’s good. Not everyone gets it.”

Ice broken. ‘Maybe this won’t be such an ordeal…’

They each paused, expecting the other to talk. The silence hadn’t yet become strained. He gestured to the hostess’ station.

Jill said, “I never had a blind date with a person so legendary.”

“Really? This is my first,” he lied.

The hostess seated them in a quiet corner.

“I’ve always wanted to try this place. Thanks for picking it.”

“It has a good rep.”

They read their menus and the conversation died. Jason couldn’t believe he’d gone blank. His thoughts sounded like cheesy TV announcer narrating.

She smiled at him.

Nothing.

“So, Blake gave you my number?” Jason nodded. “How do you know him?”

“Work.”

“Are you friends?”

“Sure… As much as anyone at work.”

They looked around. ‘Already a long night.’

Mentally, Jason lunged. “Would you like wine?”

“That would be nice. And I’ll have the Cobb salad.”

“Have anything you want…” ‘Did I just accuse her of something?’

Jason ordered their dinners and wished for inspiration.

He tapped the table. “They’re out stomping grapes now…”

She rummaged in her purse for a moment. The waiter poured their wine and Jason made a pretense of testing its quality. He nodded and the waiter left. Jason raised his glass. “Pretty color. Amazing how it catches the light when not drinking out of a sack.”

She nodded, sipped and tried to decide if he was joking.

“Jason, I guess you don’t know, but blind dates are notoriously awful.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

“I’ll cut to the chase. Tell me what you were like in high school.”

“You want to go there?”

She nodded. “Be completely honest.”

Jason examined his wine glass and wished he had a bag to crawl into. “You want the truth, eh? Out with it Jason…”

Jill sipped. “Don’t worry, I’ll get a turn too.”

Deciding he had nothing to lose, “I was the biggest liar you ever met. If my eyes were open, I was probably lying.”

Jill looked surprised. “Wow… Okay… for instance?”

“I wasn’t anti-truth. I knew it. Not close friends, but acquainted, you know? But no one cared for it. Never fashionable, I always found the truth discounted.”

Jill nodded.

“I preferred to think as a story teller, you know? I didn’t lie to take advantage. I wanted to act. Be an actor… so, always testing, I played a part…” Jason refreshed their glasses.  “Let me back up a little.”

“Sure…”

“Senior year, I was the new kid in a small farm town, recently moved from the ‘big city,’ Minneapolis. Some kids decided I must be a drug dealer. Others said I was a narc. I was neither. But no one cared. They believed whatever, regardless.”

Their food arrived. Jill nibbled but kept her attention on Jason. “I’m listening…”

“I was the original trench coat guy. The loner. A man of mystery. I found by telling the truth with a few well-placed pauses, no one would believe me. But lying with confidence, with authority, saying outrageous things… they bought it every time.”

“How interesting…”

“I graduated and headed straight to Hollywood to be discovered. They weren’t ready for me. I flopped.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry…”

“Truth is, I’m a terrible actor. A stiff. No memory for lines. On the Greyhound back to farm country, I met a girl. She proposed to me before getting off in Salt Lake City… I stayed on the bus.”

“Bet there’s more to that story…”

Jason smiled. “Another time… Anyway, I get home. My Mom opens the door, gives me a once over and says, “What are you doing here?”

“What? Is that true?”

“No lie. Return of the prodigal son. That’s my greeting. No hugs. Not even a ‘welcome back’. But I didn’t care.”

“Wow…”

“Your turn.”

Jill’s salad captured her interest. The ring of fork hitting plate had an interesting rhythm.

“Jill?”

“I’m boring compared to that.”

“Come on…”

“I was a good girl…”

“Meaning?”

“I didn’t lie, for one thing…”

“You mean you never cheated, skipped school. Lied to your folks?”

“No, I don’t lie. Never did.”

“Is that lie number one, or are you completing the set?”

“Listen up Jason, I don’t lie.”

“I have a pair of bookends here. What am I bid?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Everyone lies.”

“I don’t.”

“Insisting you never lie is a lie in itself.”

She held her glass up and downed it. He looked at her with a thin smile.

“You don’t have to believe me.”

Jason sat back and folded his arms. “We have a problem.”

“What?”

“You said I had to tell the truth.”

“And you said you’re a liar.”

“Which was true, before.”

“Not now?”

“Why would I lie now?”

“Your eyes are open?”

“Yet you insist you never lie?”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You said I had to and I agreed. I asked about your honesty and you changed the subject.”

“But you admitted you’re a liar.”

“I was being honest. You don’t lie but deflect?” He pointed over her shoulder. “Oh look, a squirrel!”

“We’re talking about your bad habit.”

“Round and round we go… where we stop…”

“You didn’t lie about lying?”

“You asked about my past.”

“What changed?”

“I met someone I wanted to trust me…”

“When was that?”

Jason took his time. “About an hour ago.”

“What?” Jill looked at her watch and frowned. “How can I believe you?”

“Because I agreed to your request - honesty. Why lie about lying? That’s like sleeping about sleeping.”

“You lie in your sleep?”

“I lay down to sleep. My eyes aren’t open then.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Something in which you’re an expert.”

Jill saw the futility of this. They both became aware of other diners listening. “So we’re at an impasse?”

“If you insist…”

“How can I trust an admitted liar?”

“I could ask you that for denying you lie.”

Jill looked for the waiter. “It’s getting late. This certainly was different.”

Jason signaled for the check.

“Your question made for a great conversation, Jill. But you missed the point.”

“The whole evening was pointless.”

“Let me explain...”

“Said the liar…”

“You can accuse me but I delivered everything you asked. We shared a good dinner. I answered honestly. Call it semantics, but words are slippery. And facts are facts.”

“Your point?”

“We just met. We’re strangers. Everything I said could be a complete fabrication. Did I mistreat you?”

“If you lied to me…”

“I’m talking facts. Not opinions.”

Jill sighed, “Thank you, Jason. I enjoyed dinner and we had a lively conversation.”

“No, thank you. Would you like repeat that experience?”

“Not if you lie to me.”

“That wasn’t the question. No one wants that… But isn’t being treated well a measure of an honest friendship? Isn’t positive experience proof against ephemeral words?”

Jill made a stand. “Lack of deceit is evidence of good treatment.”

“Granted… And I expect the same of you.”

Jill folded her napkin. Jason paid the waiter.

“There’s a little more wine. One last taste?”

“No. I’m fine.”

Jason poured the dregs and sipped. “You build trust with history. Which we have none.” He emptied his glass. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you to your car.”

Jill pulled her keys from her purse and led the way out. She pointed down the street. “I’m down here.”

They walked in silence. Arriving to her car she unlocked her door and faced him. Jason stood back.

Jill said, “I admit I got to know you...”

“Ask me no questions…”

“…Better than I expected.” Jill hesitated. “I need to say something, though. Call it a lie if you want.”

Jason shrugged.

“I said the evening was pointless. Not true at all. I got to know you and you probably didn’t lie to me… much.”

Jason stifled a laugh. “Wow…”

“Anyway, what you said about history… We do have some… now. You suggested we meet again…” Jason nodded slightly. “I would like that.”

Jason said, “I would like that too. No lie.” They smiled. Ice broken. “Friday?” She nodded. “I’ll call you.”

Jill offered her hand and he squeezed it. He held her door.

He watched her drive away and smiled.