sometimes we just need to believe the lies

Last week I talked about a guy in class who had asked a girl out in front of me and a couple other gals. He was turned down flat. In the post called, "Big balls" I'm too lazy to link it. Go back a week.
Anyway, it turns out about ten minutes after he was turned down by girl A he went outside and ran into girl B, who is also in our class and the one after with me.

They talked. He at least knew her name and talked with her before.
He asked her out for Saturday.
Sure. She'd love to. She was flattered.
He called her later that night and Friday to follow up.
He totally stood her up on Saturday.
She called him on Sunday (also, one for her, she didn't wait by the phone, she went out with her friends when it was obvious he wasn't calling or showing up) to see what the deal was. He met someone else on Friday and asked her out and he felt obligated to go out with girl C because he met her on Friday and asked her out for Saturday as well.
Nice.
Classic.
Loser.
Apparently we have a habitual asker-outer on our hands.
He ignored Girl A and Girl B in class last night.
I found out about Girl B last night when I was telling her about Girl A.
(lost yet?)
Anyway, a group of us talked after class.
I told one of the gals, Miss South Dakota who was in class with me and The Dick from about my accidental adultery from last semester. I didn't tell any names or dates, but she figured it all out on her own.
She said yeah, "all of sudden he started to wear his ring to class and he was all flirty and he would talk about what a great husband he was ...yeah! How did you find out he was married?"
"The same way you did. When he started to wear his ring."

Here's my point. Sometimes we just need to believe the lies. We want to believe the lie. Not because of any self-esteem issues or that we need to be liked or anything. Just because sometimes we need to. We need to be asked out. We don't need to be asked out ten minutes after you've been turned down by the first girl you asked out of the night, but we need to be asked out. We need to be flirted with.
We need to, want to, believe all the stories you're telling us. Even if the bullshit radar is going off, we just need to believe for that minute, hour or night that you did just get back from war. That you did divorce your wife. That we are the best lay you've ever had.
We know they're lies.
We can smell the bullshit.
When I'm tired of the bullshit for the night I'll say something to you. But for 15 minutes let me hear it and let me believe it. I'll question it when I get home or in the morning or maybe there is no need to question it because I already know.
I knew when you were telling me. But somtimes we just need to hear the sweet little lies. Sometimes.
Sometimes we need to tell a few of our own.
Sometimes.