My Coworker Faked Buying A Sports Car — Then Showed Me A Picture Of My Own Vehicle
Part 2
Staring at the screen felt like looking into a bizarre alternate reality.
The scuff mark on the bumper was from a rogue shopping cart at the grocery store two days ago.
My brother had installed those exact matte black rims for me as a birthday present.
The parking permit dangling from the mirror had my employee ID number written on the back in sharpie.
Tyler had spent his lunch break posing in front of my car.
He was currently using my hard-earned milestone to bait imaginary women on the internet.
Handing the phone back to him required every ounce of self-control I possessed.
A smug grin stretched across his face as he tucked the device back into his jacket pocket.
He asked me if I was finally ready to admit he was telling the truth.
Greg chimed in to suggest I owed Tyler a sincere apology for doubting him.
Taking a deep breath helped center the absolute rage bubbling in my chest.
I kept my voice perfectly level.
Asking him how the car drove seemed like a harmless enough question.
Tyler lit up immediately at the opportunity to elaborate on his lie.
He claimed the handling was incredibly smooth on the highway.
The acceleration was apparently out of this world according to his vivid imagination.
He described the rich smell of the brand new leather seats.
My car came with standard cloth upholstery because I couldn’t afford the premium interior package.
Pressing him for more details became my new favorite game.
I asked if he had any trouble with the tricky blind spots on that specific model.
Waving his hand dismissively showed how little he actually knew about the vehicle.
He claimed a seasoned driver like him never worried about minor things like blind spots.
He went on to describe the custom sound system he supposedly paid extra for.
I asked him what song he played first when he drove it off the dealership lot.
Without missing a beat, he listed a popular rap track and bragged about the bass rattling his windows.
The factory standard speakers in my vehicle barely handled podcasts without buzzing.
He spent another five minutes explaining the intricacies of the financing paperwork.
He complained about the dealership trying to upsell him on gap insurance.
Every single detail he provided was entirely fabricated on the spot.
Watching someone lie with such effortless conviction was honestly terrifying.
He even detailed the exact route he took home to avoid rush hour traffic.
That was particularly impressive considering the car had been parked in space 42B since eight in the morning.
He offered to show Greg the engine bay after we finished our drinks.
Greg looked like a kid on Christmas morning at the prospect of seeing the motor.
I smiled sweetly and told Tyler I would absolutely love to see the engine too.
He assured me he would pop the hood as soon as we closed out our tabs.
He told me not to touch anything under there because it was highly sensitive machinery.
Greg nodded vigorously at this profound display of automotive expertise.
Reaching into my purse allowed my fingers to brush against cold metal.
The heavy weight of my keys felt grounding in the palm of my hand.
Tyler took another long drink from his glass and asked if I wanted a ride home later.
He promised he would let me sit in the passenger seat if I behaved myself.
How long would it take for him to realize the spare key to his new car was sitting right in my purse?
