“The 90’s were a good decade. Nobody knew how to verify anything. But with facebook following your every thought and Twitter following your every move, you have to plan your lies way in advance. It’s practically as time consuming as actually doing the shit you're lying about.”    

Martin recently ran into trouble when he told the other attendants his hair loss was due to chemotherapy. “Yeah, I don’t know,” 18 year-old coworker, Brian Farson said. “I looked up chemo. It shouldn’t leave hair around the side of your head.” Another fib that nearly cost him all credibility occurred when he told Billy Taylor, the most gullible valet, that he was the inspiration for Eminem’s hit song, Stan. “The guy fucking dies at the end of the song. What’s that about? And his name’s not even Stan. What the fuck?”

Psychologist Janet Price weighed in on Martin’s condition. “In a low-status, menial job like parking cars, most workers would validate their self worth by telling a white-lie, such as their occupation’s part time. Martin, on the other hand, would have you believe he’s really a millionaire who moonlights by “test driving” cars at night. “Yeah,” responded Tyler, a 21 year-old valet, “And the rest of the year I’m a janitor at MIT who spends his time on hallway blackboards solving crazy fucking math problems.”

Disbelief in Martin’s stories bubbled to the surface four weeks ago when he claimed he attended the Royal wedding. “Fifteen years ago, it would fly,” said Martin. “Now if you want credibility, you need 100 freaking facebook pic’s with tags. That’s great, if anyone from the Royal family would accept your friend request.”

Further hindering Martin’s lie was his inexperience with photoshop. “Fucking thing took a week. One, because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and, two, because I must’ve masturbated 100 times. If anyone asks, it was 1,000.” Martin’s attempts at splicing his face onto other guests at the Royal wedding were met with skepticism, in particular with Martin’s boss, Andy. “I saw the picture of him with his arm around Kate Middleton. You could fit three of Kates’ heads into one of his heads.” “No, really,” responded Martin. “She has a tiny fuckin` head, bro.” 

While Martin has no plans to stop lying anytime soon, he’s learned to scale it back. “It’s quality over quantity. No more “I took a shit that was literally the size of a football” every time I use the bathroom. Now, it’s like every 3 days. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to start small and pace yourself. There’s no where to go once you claim you’re Arnold Schwarzenegger’s real first illegitimate son.”