Lies People Tell to Get Laid


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Lies People Tell to Get Laid

We asked some of our friends to tell us the worst lies they've told a potential mate to get them into bed.

This article originally appeared on VICE Spain

Everybody lies, right? It's a fact. We lie about our qualifications; we lie about our jobs; for some reason, we lie about how much we drank last night, as if the fact we managed eight pints is really going to impress anyone over the age of 13. Meanwhile, it's almost scientifically proven that when it comes to sex, and trying to convince people that you are worth having sex with, lying is a given.


With that in mind, we asked some of our friends to tell us the worst lies they've told a potential mate to get them into bed. And how it all worked out for them in the end.


I use Tinder to flirt and I always give the address of a friend so my potential dates can't know where I actually live. I've already had some bad experiences with disturbed men arriving to my house drunk late at night and I don't want to have to go through the same thing again.

At some point though, I met this guy that I really liked so we started dating more seriously. Three months into the relationship, I was still pretending to live in my friend's house. At times when he'd suggest spending the night at mine, I'd say I preferred to go his place. On nights where I couldn't avoid it, we'd go together to my friend's house then I would pretend I had to get up really early the next morning and ask him to leave. I would wait for a while after he left, and then leave myself for my real home – which is quite far from my friend's.

I know it may be a little odd but I also feel that letting strangers in my house, is an invasion of privacy. Also, I must admit that my friend's place is a penthouse, while I live in a box of matches.

‒ Lidia, 27


One night, I was at a party with my housemate, his girlfriend and his lover. Of course, the lover didn't know he had a girlfriend and the girlfriend didn't know he had a lover. After the party, my friend said he wanted to go back to ours with the lover, so he provoked an argument with his girlfriend in order to make her leave the party and stay with the other girl. The guy was a jerk.

On our way home, in the taxi, his girlfriend called him to shout at him for ignoring her all night. He gave me the phone and asked me to pretend I was him, so he could make out with the other woman in the back seat. I spoke to the poor woman for an hour and a half – she was drunk enough to believe that I was him. By the time we hung up, we had arrived home – my roommate had long gone inside with the other girl, while I sat on the steps outside our house. "It's just better that we don't see each other today, because we are too drunk. Let's talk tomorrow. I love you," I remember telling her.


They went on to date for a couple more months, and during that time I was developing real feelings for his girlfriend. Eventually, I told her the truth so she would break up with him and go out with me. She did for a while, but I think she couldn't stop feeling slightly creeped out by what I'd done so she eventually broke it off. I guess I should say deserved it, but I am not sure I did.

- Tomas, 23


It happened about two years ago, when I was 18 and lived in Gerona. Some friends from back home, in Russia, were visiting and we went out to party. At one of the nightclubs, we met a group of guys who seemed interesting and, feeling playful, we decided to tell them a bunch of lies and see which one of us would pull faster.

I decided to pretend that I was a model from Moscow, who was in Gerona working for the week. One of the guys, hearing that I was "a model", came up to me and asked for my name and age. We talked for a while, and it quickly became obvious that the guy was only interested in me because I was a model. He asked for my number and I told him: "What do you want it for? I won't be here tomorrow." He replied that since we wouldn't meet again, we should have sex right then and there. I know my aim was to get laid, but I found it all so pathetic that my plan backfired and I lost my metaphorical boner. I made a move to leave, but he grabbed me by the arm and insisted I finish my drink. Obviously, by that point I was scared shitless but thankfully, my friend saw it all from a corner of the bar and interfered. She said she was my manager and we had to leave, because I had a 5AM wake up call the next day.


Nowadays, I don't make up stories to get men interested in me; it seems silly and slightly dangerous. But I don't regret what happened that night; it's a good story to tell.

—Ivanna, 20


When I was younger, I studied to be a pilot but never practiced it as a profession. Like most people, I went through a phase of sleeping around so whenever I met a guy, I'd say I worked as a pilot for an international airline and that I'd only be in town for a few days. This way, I could be in control of the situation – kicking people out of my place with the excuse of early morning flights, and so forth.

One day, however, I met Alex, whom I liked way more than anyone I'd met before. Things were going pretty well between us – until we decided that it was time for our relationship to get to the next level and moved in together.

I travel a lot for work anyway, so it was easy to keep up the lies about being a pilot for a while – at the beginning, Alex did not suspect a thing. But a few months in, he realised my schedule was too fixed for my lie to be credible, so he started asking questions. Instead of fessing up, I started to go out at night with friends but telling Alex I was working. I'd come home in the mornings and the leave again for my real job, getting almost no sleep. At some point, I even slept at my friends' for a whole week, and told Alex I was in Sydney.

As expected, one day we bumped into each other at a club, even though I was supposed to be in Singapore. It was too late to explain myself. He broke up with me and I was aware I deserved it.


‒ Jorge, 29


After being with the same woman for more than 10 years, she left me on a Saturday morning. It was a very complicated situation because we had spent so much time together that my whole existence was built around our relationship. Also I had just changed jobs, so in a matter of a few months, my life changed completely.

As so many people do, in an attempt to numb the feeling that my life was in pieces, I took refuge in one of my great hobbies: partying. Those were a pretty intense few months, full of alcohol and other things – funny and miserable in equal parts. I won't go into detail but anyone can imagine the kind of weirdness that took place.

One night during that time – I remember it was during the Primavera Sound festival in Barcelona – I met a girl. We started talking and I really liked her. I think I was the one who asked her how old she was, and she said: "I am 24."

– "I am 34," I replied.

Ten years is quite a big difference, but I was actually 38 at the time. She didn't seem to care about the fake age difference; if anything, she seemed to dig it. That night we slept together and the next morning we embarked on a new relationship. Everything was going very, very well. My life had improved a lot in a very short while.

But of course that lie about my age was always there, hanging around, whispering to me that I was a bastard. Many nights, I'd lay awake next to her, thinking about the day I would be forced to confess – it would have to be before my birthday, which was a few months away.

One day, out of the blue, I decided to tell her. "I have something to tell you," I begun. I guess she thought I was about to admit something even worse – some crime I'd committed or another woman – cause as soon as I said the words she begun to jump up and down, hugging me and saying she was "so relieved!" We laughed for a while and went on with our lives. A few weeks later, we started living together and have been very happy for almost two years now.

‒Óscar, 40