From a chapter I cut:

While in New York in the fall of 2004, and between Alanon meetings (and, no doubt, between fuckfests), Lisa took a lie detector test. And guess what? She passed!

Right: Holy shit!

But, unfortunately, there were problems with the lie detector test. First, Lisa called to tell me about the test after the results were in. So, presumably, she wasn’t sure enough of herself to alert me to this latest maneuver before she knew she passed. But no matter, really, since the test was of the voice stress analyzer type, which I already knew about: It has zero reliability. Just Google voice stress + reliability if you doubt me. (Click the independent studies, not the websites and ads offering the service!) The test is a complete crock of shit, which Lisa undoubtedly knew via her own Googling, having learned while doing public relations that research is key in effective perception management.

Lisa gave me the number of the upstate private investigator who administered the test. I called him to see how all this went, first asking for his bona fides, not that that was much at issue since the test he administers is a complete crock of shit. The guy said he was retired from law enforcement, but then refused to get specific as to where and when he was in law enforcement. Confidential, he said, unless I hire him for something. I’ve never heard of getting references after you hire someone, but okay, whatever. Let’s get to the test. He asked Lisa a dozen questions, he said. Does she have a boyfriend in San Jose? No. Has she cheated on me with anyone in Costa Rica? No. Did she record over the Holiday Inn tape. No. Has she been gaslighting me? No. Wait, I said to him. How about baseline questions? These are neutral questions that establish someone’s normal speech pattern – when they are not being deceptive. Not necessary, the guy tells me. He’s right, actually. They weren’t necessary since voice stress tests tell you nothing anyway. Why waste time with baseline questions?

Look. The whole deal was just a crock of shit, one end to the other. Lisa had driven a couple hours upstate and coughed up $1,500 to gaslight me and everyone else. It was a bold move, though, I must admit. And unlike virtually all her other gaslighting maneuvers it didn’t actually backfire. In fact: Imagine how others – those who figure they “know” Lisa, the charming, reasonable, and above all fiercely loyal Lisa – might react when her tearful protestation of innocence and undying love for me now ends with: “I passed a lie detector test and he still doesn’t believe me!”  (Do you think Lisa mentioned to these people that voice stress tests are a complete crock of shit? To sum up, though, regarding the test results: A weeping woman shows up and gives you $1,500 for 20 minutes of your time to administer a test you know means nothing; it’s a complete crock of shit. What are you going to do, tell the weeping woman she’s a liar as you pocket her cash?)

Plus, Lisa got to play the domination game still again, get the thrill of gaslighting someone, anyone – the upstate PI charlatan, another stranger, not that he gave a flying fuck if she was lying through her pussy or not — and in so doing in her mind win another round in her game.