The Proof Is on Fire

Story Sent in by Bessie:

I met Ron on a site where people discuss their travel experiences and trade tourist tips. We discovered pretty early on that we lived near each other, and the conversation soon moved from the site to email and phone, and from platonic to flirtatious and beyond.

He asked me out to dinner and gave me an address at which to meet him. I thought it was the location of a restaurant, but it was actually the location of a bank. Confused, I parked my car and pulled out my phone to call him when he appeared and said, "Ready for dinner?"

I asked him why we didn't just meet at the restaurant and he told me it was because he had important business to complete, first. Indeed, he had a manila envelope under his arm and a smirk on his face. I didn't know what he was talking about but I was happy to have finally met him.

At dinner we shared a few more travel experiences and after I had spoken for a little bit he held up a hand and said, "So you've visited Johannesburg, Prague, Belgrade, Istanbul, and Sucre?"

"Yes."

He pulled out his envelope and slapped it onto the table. "Proof!" he said, "Proof that you've never visited any of the places you say."

Surprised, I said, "Uh... I have photos and video of myself from each of those places. I–"

"Computer fabrications," he said, "I have proof right here."

He opened up the envelope and pulled out a small stack of paper. On each page was a single typed line, each of which basically said:

"Bessie has never been to Johannesburg." "Bessie has never been to Prague." "Bessie has never been to Belgrade." "Bessie has never been to Istanbul." "Bessie has never been to Sucre."

I said, "You seriously typed all these out? Why?"

He said, "I didn't type them. I just wanted to present you with proof that you haven't been everywhere you say you've been."

I asked, "Are you... are you being serious, right now?"

He said, "You can Photoshop photos and videos, but you can't deny proof. Sorry." He slipped the papers back into the envelope. "So where have you actually been?"

"All the places I told you I've been."

"Except for the places this proof proves you weren't, you mean."

I asked, "What the hell are you trying to accomplish, here?"

He said, "Just trying to clear the air. I want our relationship to begin with honesty. I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt from here on in. Just no more lies, okay?"

"I–"

"No more lies, Bessie. You're a liar and it needs to stop."

I took a pen out of my purse, scrawled a note on a paper napkin, folded it up tight, and handed it to him.

"Proof," I said, then stood and left.

When he unfolded it, he would've read, "Ron's an asshoIe."