is it just me?

Over the weekend I volunteered at the public radio phone drive. I know, I am a huge nerd. Does it make it any better if I told you that I do it because my neighbor is the volunteer coordinator? Though, when I say neighbor I mean person who stands at my bus stop. BUT her husband is a musician, which is cool. Though, when I say musician what I mean is bagpiper. (He has a band, but he is also a professional highland bagpiper which is too funny to leave out.)

Anyway, you know how on public radio (okay, maybe you don't but bear with me) they ask for money. Well, then people call in and give money and so they need people to answer the phones. It's not so bad. A lot of the people who do it are older, though on Sunday afternoon when I was working it was sort of a mixed bag. Mostly it was typical Madisonians - nice, liberal, friendly, aging hippies. But there was this one guy there who didn't fit the mold. His name was Daniel. He was young, chubby, and he liked to talk. A lot. Personally, I just sit there and play computer solitaire while waiting for the phone to ring. And fortunately, there was someone else sitting between me and Daniel. Eventually he figured out that neither of us were really interested, so he turned to the other side of the room. He talked about his job as a cable contractor (exciting), his girlfriend who he never sees because she works nights at the Oscar Mayer (awesome), blah blah blah. But then he starts talking about riding his motorcycle through the Chunnel. What?

Okay, I guess it's possible that he rode his motorcycle through the chunnel. But I really really doubt it. It just didn't quite ring true. Partly because he just mentioned it briefly, and then moved on. It seems like it would be worthy of a bit more discussion. And then he says he hates France. Apparently he and his friend were there and the cops pulled some lady over and beat her up with a nightstick. And according to Daniel (who is now basically holding court with all this gullible public radio volunteers) they do this ALL the time. Right. Now, at this point it would seem to me that any sane person would know he's not telling the truth. But this guy says "Really? I didn't know that. I thought France was a nice place." Oh no, Daniel assures them, France is basically the new Rwanda. (Okay, he didn't go that far, but he made it clear that he hated France and thinks it's dangerous.) And people are just accepting it as truth. This is slowly driving me crazy. I feel like yelling "Am I the only one who realizes this guy is completely full of it?" There was a story about mistaken identity and a concealed weapon (apparently he carries a handgun, a fact which was not all that enthusiastically received at the radio station.) Has this ever happened to you? People say things that you are more or less positive are false, yet other people just accept them as fact. And what's worse, they encourage the people to keep talking. As they go on the stories just get more ridiculous. For example, a friend's sister was recently telling us the story of being at USC during the 1993 riots. This part is true. Then she's telling us some stories about driving home when the riots had already started. Possibly true. Then she tells us that sorority girls were looting nail salons for the polish. Almost certainly false. Now, I was not there but from what I understand the riots were kinda scary. And sorority girls are not know for their bravery. Am I really supposed to believe that they wanted free Candy Apple Red that badly?

I am not quite sure why this bothers me so much. I mean, storytelling is about keeping people entertained, right? But if you are trying to pass it off as a true story, stick to the facts. Embellish. Use a lot of adjectives. Exaggerate. But don't just make things up. And for all you suckers out there who believe things like routine nightstick beatings in Paris, have I got a story for you.