THIS! Christine

I've travelled quite a bit. I'm not a stranger to the routines of hotels, planes, and airports. What I'm about to tell you I've never told another living soul, but my secret life revolves around the cab ride to or from the airport.

For the most part I'm an honest person--For the most part.

But something happens to me when I get inside a cab and a whole other world opens up to me.

"So where have you been?" The cabbie might ask, or, "So, what do you do for a living?"

Those two little questions release an habitual liar inside an otherwise straight shooter. Either of those questions and away I go, into a fantastical morass of lies about a make believe life, that I'm sure is a product of constantly creating characters in my head... in the cab, suddenly, I can become any fictional character I want.

For a fairly private person, having the unbridled freedom to simply make shit up to a captive audience is.... It is nothing less than exhilirating.

In these magical taxi rides I've been a human resources manager for an oil company, coming back from a training seminar. I've returned from Bahrain where my husband is stationed, (he's an engineer helping with the latest water capture and storage systems), I've worked for the forestry industry, been a buyer for a designer (specialising in leather) the lies are never ending. And so much damn fun.

There's also the terror of discovery. Can I pull it off this time? Will this be the ride where the person I'm talking to actually knows something about the bullshit I'm shovelling? What will I do if I'm called on it, confess all? Brazen it out?

So, wanna come on a cab ride with me and be anyone you want? I'll back you up, promise.

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