My Life is A Lie

Sometimes, it takes a relatively minor event to bring to the surface a profound disconnect between one’s supposed “truth” and reality of that truth disappearing. Buying an airfare ticket from American Airlines yesterday did so for Life in the Boomer Lane.

It started predictably enough. LBL was in posession of an alleged $233 credit from a flight that had been cancelled. Based on past experience, she knew that this credit may or may not have been real. It took about 10 minutes to find the 800 number listed online to call the airline, then another 10 minutes before the automated system, led by a finely-tuned Virtual Human, to connected her to an Actual Living Human called an “agent.”

The agent introduced himself and, before LBL was allowed to speak, asked her a long series of minor questions. LBL was eventually able to answer enough of them for the Human to proceed. The big questions lay ahead, involving access to LBL’s American Airlines account. This would be accomplished by a series of moves of which LBL was incapable of maneuvering.

The first was remembering her password. When it was established that she couldn’t remember her password, she was directed to the website in which she could easily key in her old password so that she could create a new one. When the Human understood that this wasn’t a situation that LBL could possibly succeed at, he went to the security questions. The following interaction occurred:

Human: When you were little, what did you want you be when you grew up?

LBL: A ballet dancer.

Human: That is incorrect.

Human: What is your favorite reading material?

LBL: Novels.

Human: That is incorrect.

Human: What is your most powerful attribute?

LBL: I am funny.

Human: That is incorrect.

These three questions, alone, forced LBL to hurtle into a psychic black hole, suddenly appearing into the bedrock of who she defined herself to be. All the years of ballet training, all the thousands of novels she had read, all the times people said “Oh my, you are just hilarious!” amounted to nil. Did she actually really want to be a nurse or or a lawyer, but didn’t know it? Did she waste her life on novels but secretly would have preferred Civil War histories? Were people merely making her feel better at her failed attempt at humor? And, if all this were possible, did it negate her basic sense of reality? Did Trump really win the 2020 election? Did Danny Irons not dump her, right before prom? Could she actually carry a tune?

While LBL was mentally scrambling to get a foothold on her own life, the Human continued. The answer she gave to each ensuing question was met with “That is incorrect.” The Human then told LBL to create new answers to her security questions, and directed her to a drop down menu of 25 questions:

What is your favorite athletic activity? (Hers is breathing, not listed as a valid choice)

What do you like to do in warm weather? (Don’t turn the heat on, again not listed as a valid choice)

What is your favorite musical instrument? (The car radio, again not listed as a choice)

What is your favorite breed of dog? (legs and a tail, not listed as a choice)

What is your favorite color? (black was not listed as a choice)

What was the best time of your life? (Clearly, not this phone call)

What do you reach for in life? (very little, as she is 4’11, again not listed as a choice)

Now, added to the fact that she no longer trusted anything that she thought she did, she was aware that nothing in her entire life connected to the life of any other live human being.

Finally, when she believed all was lost, she hit paydirt. What is your favorite kind of pizza? (Pepperoni!!! Yes!!! Validated!!!) and What is your favorite flavor of ice cream? (Coffee!!! Yes!!! Validated!!!) allowed her to pass the security questions test. She had just run a mental marathon, with no water or foil blankets at the finish line, (Both make runners look like thirsty, exhausted pieces of reheated chicken.) She was emotionally wiped out.

The Human asked her if there was anything else she needed. LBL declined, as she was in terror that the few remaining anchors of her life would be in peril (Do you love your family? Are you a Democrat? Do you believe that all people (well, not since 2016) should be treated with respect? Would you like to perform handbag interventions on most women?)

The call was ended. LBL had secured her airline ticket, paying only the difference between the ticket cost and the credit (which had inexplicably increased by $100, by the time all the financial maneuvering was done). As for the rest of her life, she now knows that she can only trust pizza and ice cream, which she had sort of figured out anyway, a very long time ago.