I used to work with a guy called Lee at a small IT company
who was...unusual, to say the least. He had a number of problems, including rampant racism, sexism and a disfigured face due to an operation to remove a tumour. He was tolerated by most of the guys in the office, none of the girls, and I was about the only person there who would ever go out for a beer with him because, well, he seemed genuinely down on his luck and I'm a sucker for a sob story.

Anyway, around the office he used to tell some pretty outrageous stories, like how when he was 17 he was second in the country at karate or how he'd been to a gold mine in South Africa, his house that he grew up was haunted and he could *prove* it because his mum and sister would back him up, that kind of thing. He would boast of his fighting prowess at karate, despite being five foot nothing and probably weighing less than a sparrow. Eventually everyone in the office took what he said with a grain of salt and he even acquired the nickname of "Lightning Fists Lee", since he talked up his achievements so much.

One night I went out for a few beers with him near Liverpool Street (one of the strangest nights of my life, we bumped into this white power 'Merkin straight out of American History X, and I'm still not 100% sure it was a coincidence) and after getting ratted we ended up going back to his for a spliff as it was nearby. Towards the end of the night, he pulled out a box of stuff from under his bed, turned to me and said: "I know you guys don't believe what I say, but I'll prove it to you," and proudly produced a certificate that stated he had won a silver medal at the national karate championships, and another touristy "certificate" that said he had been on a tour of a gold mine in South Africa. Turns out it was all true, the sad thing was how incredibly proud he was of these events that must have happened ten years previously, and how he'd pretty much done nothing of note since then.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 29 Nov 2007, 18:09, Reply)