Thursday, Jun. 15, 2006

Would I lie to you?

By Teri Citterman

It's a common yet tacit covenant that social lying is acceptable. We all do it, then wish we were better people. Why is it that one of life's most awkward moments is saying "no" to an unexpected invitation. Another baby shower, coffee with an ex, a family's wedding. The invites keep coming, and it's best to always have a canned excuse ready: a blend of precision, personal touch, conviction - and some truth.

Sometimes that is easier said than done.

Recently, I was invited to a baby shower for a friend's wife who I don't really know. Not only that, but the baby shower was up north - just slightly south of Canada, as far as I was concerned. My boundaries tend to be limited to Capitol Hill and downtown Seattle. If I have to drive in traffic, I turn into a madwoman, so I figured it would be best for all of us if I simply declined.

My friend, the husband, followed up with a call to ask why I wouldn't be attending.

"Umm ... well ..."

Should I tell him my distaste for driving, traffic and baby showers in general?

"I would love to come, but I ... I ... there were reports of rain and I need to mow the lawn!"

Ok - two things - I live in a condo and have no lawn, and that's completely lame! He thinks so, too.

With a quiet gasp, I utter, "Can we meet for a glass of wine next week?"

Silence.

That's what happens when you're unprepared. Meanwhile, I pour myself a glass of Lost River Winery 2003 Columbia Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. Just the right wine when you feel like the current is moving swiftly and there's an unavoidable whirlpool up ahead. This wine has softness - even compassion - and has traces of sympathetic undertones. Some ripening raspberry and spice pick you up when you feel like you're sinking.

I was invited to my cousin's wedding. Mostly, I enjoy weddings. (I recently attended a fabulous soirée when Greg and Stacy Lill of DeLille Cellars tied the knot. Congratulations!) But this was another wedding, of another cousin with whom I wasn't terribly close. I was invited to the engagement party, the bridal shower, the couple's shower, the bride's family shower, the groom's family shower, the high school friends' shower, etc. Frankly, I could not stomach the bridal tea. The day of the wedding, as I had rehearsed my lines perfectly - "I'm happy to be here, and I'm so sorry I missed the tea" - I prepared to be received in the receiving line. As I stepped up to hug the bride, I blurted out, "I'm happy I missed the tea and I'm so sorry to be here."

Oops.

I stood frozen, staring into the headlights, groping for something to say and - well - there's simply nothing to say. At that point, you simply surrender and give a giant hug holding on for deer/dear life. After that kind of blunder, a glass of Di Stefano 2003 Columbia Valley Sauvignon Blanc is about the only thing that can take away some of the sting and ease the embarrassment. The nose offers apple and pear but isn't too fruity or sweet. It's clean and mellow and after a couple of sips, you feel calm again and ready to face the wedding party and the family. You might also consider sending a bottle as a peace offering with your condolences - I mean congratulations.

The phone was ringing. Who but a telemarketer would be calling me on my home phone. It's either a telemarketer or an ex-boyfriend. He identified himself followed by, "Remember me?" Of course I remember you, I say in my head. You cheated on me with your buddy's wife. It had been three years since we dated, and apparently he had taken the "high fidelity" route and was retracing his steps through his relationships.

Could we meet for coffee? he asked in a sad puppy-dog-like tone. Where's that excuse when I need one! Blank ... nothing. "I guess," I said foolishly. Days later, we were sitting across from each other. He said he was really trying to identify the patterns in his life and maybe I could provide some insight, yada yada yada. Then he popped the question: "What do you think went wrong?" This time I didn't hesitate. I picked up my purse and walked out.

At home, I poured a glass of Willamette Valley Vineyards 2005 Whole Cluster Pinot Noir. It's vibrant and explosive and gives you the strength to hold back when you want to burst into laughter and say, "Are you kidding me?" It's round and juicy and gives you that oomph of kindness and understanding when all you really want to do is tell him where to go.

The German (present and wonderful boyfriend) and I have been trying to reach out to people in his Alki neighborhood. We've gotten to know an elderly couple over Riesling, two hot gay guys over Brunello and a young couple with the 2-year-old over Syrah.

The next day, the couple extended an invitation to us for their daughter's birthday party. It would be 11 kids and some adults. Since we have no kids of our own, we couldn't think of a worse way to spend our coveted Saturday night. I graciously declined but, sensing disappointment, added "My brother's the backup drummer for Kate Hudson's cousin's band and they're playing that night ... and we already have tickets."

I poured a glass of Tucker Cellars 2003 Yakima Valley Gewürztraminer. It smelled like buttercups and bumblebees and eased my conscience from the little white lie. It doesn't condone what you've done, but it doesn't condemn you, either. It commiserates with you when you feel guilty for partaking in that unspoken ritual - social lying.

Now watch: I'll never get another invitation. Cheers.

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