The Sublime Satisfaction of Watching Someone Confess a Lie

You know you never have to believe them again.

I’ve told this story before, but forgive me, it’s relevant to the current topic.

About 16 years ago, I needed to rent a car in Manhattan, a terrible place to need a rental car. I walked into my local Avis outlet and saw the most imposing, ominous queue I have ever seen, 50 people jammed up next to one another in a room the size of a studio apartment. One poor soul stood behind the counter, rattled and upset but doing her best.

I’d been in line for about 20 minutes a guy walked in. He sighed when he saw the line, but he had a plan. He rushed to the front of the counter.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry about this, but this is an emergency,” he said. He placed a bag of beach equipment on the ground and turned to the Avis employee. “My grandfather has had a heart attack, and I have to get to him immediately,” he said. “It’s an emergency, I have to get there right now.” There wasn’t a single person in that room who believed he was in a rush to see his grandfather. He seemed to understand this. But he wasn’t going to let that stand in his way.

“I’m sorry, sir, we have a lot of people eager to get where they’re going,” the woman at the desk mumbled, not looking at him,, as the first…