So I’m at my book club and we’re chatting with the prolific author, Gene Logsdon, who made a cameo appearance with wife Carol. We’d read his 2007 novel, The Lords of Folly.

At some point, I must have said something candidly self-deprecating — that’s my chief talent (oops, there I go again) — and Gene remarks, "You’re so honest."

"Why would I lie to you, Gene?" I explained. "I don’t even know you. You’re not worth lying to. The rest of the book club? That’s different. I’d lie to them in a moment. I have a lot invested in what they think of me. But, you? Who cares what you think of me?"

We all laughed until Gene coughed up a Triscuit.

I always tell strangers the truth.
Why not? What do I have to lose?

Do you lie to perfect strangers? Or do you save your lies for the people who know you best?