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Yeah.

I don't like when you say it like that.

Well, that's how I'm going to say it now.

I wanted to ask you what's the worst and weirdest way a man has lied to you. And not like,

oh, I'm six feet tall, but he's actually five, ten, because they all say that. I mean, like a real honker that you never saw coming. You're making the assumption that I speak to men. I mean,

I know you have historically talked to them. I just don't know if you're currently doing that.

Honestly, nobody's ever really lied to me in a big way, that at least that I know of. I used to go out

with this guy who was a long time ago who had like a secret family in the suburbs. No. Yeah.

And but the thing that offended me was that like he pretended he didn't have a car. And I was like,

I could have gotten

some rides out of that lie at least. Yeah, that's really disappointing. He had a whole secret

family and he was like, I actually don't have a car. It's literally unbelievable. Well, this week,

I've got a story about a man who tells so many women, so many different lies,

that he can barely keep track.

And frankly, Sarah, neither can I.

In the summer of 1988, Christian Carl Gerhardt's writer steps out of the Manhattan humidity

and into the lobby of the high-end investment banking company, Kidder, Peabody, and Company.

Three years ago, he abandoned California and the identity of Christopher Mountbatten, Chichester.

...