Scruples

She didn’t really care much about golf, but her friend from the radio station got a couple tickets to the celebrity outing, so she agreed to go with him. It might be fun to see who was there. She put on her hippest clothes and spent a little longer than normal on a cutting edge hairdo and makeup. If any photo ops came up, she wanted to look glamorous next to a favorite star.

The event was a pretty fun way to spend an afternoon. It was mostly smaller names – B-actors and sitcom stars of mediocre success, and a few up and coming recording artists – no superstars. But it was still kind of fun to meet some notable faces.

After the reception they decided to go to a nearby eatery for their famous battered fries and a few microbrews.

Her friend had always told her she looked like that one singer with the nose ring. She didn’t really know her music but had seen a picture of her, and took it as a compliment. She only saw a vague resemblance, though. Still, he was convinced she was a dead ringer, and to prove it he decided to pull a joke on her when someone stopped him on the way back from the bathroom to ask if his companion was who he thought she was.

Without a flinch, he confirmed she was, and sent him over with encouragement to talk to her.

She almost didn’t hear him when he tiptoed up next to her and stumbled through an opening line - partly because he addressed her by another name, and partly because his voice was barely over a whisper, as if they were in a library rather than a busy restaurant. But in a few seconds it registered. She looked up and saw the spellbound face of a stranger, and the smirking mug of her friend behind him. She knew what her friend was up to but didn’t have the heart to tell the young man he was misled, so she decided to just play along. They talked a while, and she signed his golf program for him with a silver Sharpie her friend conveniently whipped out. His eyes sparkled. As he walked away her friend nudged her and spouted about an acting job well done – but she felt kind of bad.

A few minutes later, a small gaggle of girls came up and said hi and how much they loved her debut album. Her friend looked at her with a grin and raised eyebrows. Apparently word was geting around. She shot him a split-second glance she hoped said “I’ll get you for this”, and chatted with the bubbling teens. One of the girls gave her a cassette by the singer with the nose ring. She opened it and signed a forgery on the cover, “With love” - wondering if she was breaking any laws.

As the evening progressed, a dozen or so similar interruptions followed. She posed for photos, signed autographs, accepted impromptu gifts. Her friend was delighted, but she was uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to get out of it now, though.

The funny thing was, no one even seemed to notice that she didn't have a nose ring.

She wondered, would the karma gods punish her for lying? Or was making the night of a few fans, even under the guise of deception, not such a bad thing?