It was time to lie

We all have them, the times when you have to lie.  Maybe not every day, and some of us more, or less, than others.  In my most generous, I think of these lies as RAH described politeness, the lubricant that keeps the machinery of society going, machinery that doesn't work too well at the best of times.

"What do you think of this outfit?"

"What do you think about my friend?"

"This is my band's demo album, what do you think?"

We all lie.  Some of us better than others, but typically it's not lying to hurt someone, but the opposite: lying to save their feelings.  I'm not good at this type of lie and consequently I don't participate much. I'm generally seen as an asshole, because unless you're a friend or my kids, I don't like you enough to lie about things.
Chances are better than good that I hate your friends (and you!) and your outfit makes you look like you belong in a circus run by retarded people and your band should burn their instruments and go to accounting school.

This guy just heard your album.  You can see he's impressed.

Sometimes though, I'm clever enough to realize that not liking someone doesn't mean I have to tell them the ungarnished truth.  Sometimes, it's okay to lie, even to people I DON'T LIKE.

Like today.

"What did you think about that (incredibly long and pointless) training?" (It was about not allowing negativity to enter the workplace.  Seriously?  I'm a fucking cop.  Negativity is the reason I have a job, retard.)

It was time to lie.