Lying about musical prowess to impress girls

When I was only a lad, I had a summer job at Jacob Lake Inn near the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. I walked into the break room one day to hear the final notes of Peter, Paul and Mary's A' Soalin' played awkwardly on the guitar by a fellow employee. The girl that was watching admiringly asked him about the song he said something like, "Oh, it's just something me and a friend wrote a while back." That I did not call him out at that time is one of my great regrets.

A couple of years earlier, while I was a missionary in France, a fellow missionary played a great tune on the guitar and told me he wrote it for his girlfriend. It wasn't until years later that I discovered the song was actually Language of the Heart by David Wilcox. I actually saw the guy again at an Indigo Girls concert (opening act: David Wilcox) the night before I got married. I thought about mentioning it to him, but I'm not as petty in real life as I am in my mind.

I have to admit I once told a girl that I recorded the opening sequence of Queen's Invisible Man on my home stereo, so I don't have much room to talk here. (It probably would have worked out between us if I hadn't picked such a lame song.) What is it that makes guys think they can get away with this?

I blame it on Lyle Lovett. Because, hey, if it worked for him. . .