The Test

I passed a polygraph test today. It was an unnerving experience. The guy who administered the test says that's normal.

Before I took the test, he patiently listened to my compulsive confessions.

"I made up the date a rock chip hit my windshield. I couldn't remember exactly when it happened, but the repair company insisted I provide a date."

"I don't think that counts as insurance fraud," he replied.

"I might have inhaled marijuana."

"When did that happen?" He perked up.

"Once in high school and once in college when I was with some cousins who were smoking, but I didn't actually smoke it myself."

"I don't think that counts as using an illicit substance."

He said that people like me--and by that I think he meant the kind of people he laughs about with his wife over dinner--will second guess ourselves, combing our memories for something that might contradict our answers.

I left his office feeling vaguely guilty. For what? I don't know. Or do I?