You don’t build on the bullshit and lies, but around it. It’s a pain-in-the-ass, but so is dealing with a snitch who is incapable of lying. Personally, I tell my wife and kids to throw me under the bus as needed to get them out of awkward conversations and commitments they don’t want to make. “My dad won’t let me do that” works a treat. The latest was “my dad won’t let me commit insurance fraud”(like I particularly care about insurance fraud, but my limits are surprisingly more restrictive than some we know who would never admit it).








Nah, my wife is much more like you, and it’s often exhausting, although she’s learned a bit across the decades.
You’re a little old to be equating the capacity to lie to get by, doing even the bare minimum to preserve your own and others’ dignity, and feelings, with “being shitty”. As if euphemism and metaphore are just “cool story-telling tricks we developed for some reason”, or human recall doesn’t make AI hallucinations look almost par for the course of actual intelligence.
No wonder you’re single.