I was a young man and it was my first job interview.  I was immediately uncomfortable with the man who was doing the interview. I wanted the job badly and I was hoping he didn’t sense my immediate dislike.  Then came the question:

         “Do you have any objection to taking a lie detector test?”

My reply was instant.  I looked directly into his eyes and said, “Of course not, let me know when and where”.

         The job I was applying for was as a claims manager for a national trucking company.  I assumed there were thefts involved and they could be on a large scale. I understood the need for the lie detector test.  Yes, it was necessary and it was fine with me.

         That evening, my wife and I discussed the required test and agreed it was not a big deal.  I never stole a thing from anyone, even as a young boy.  I was squeaky clean.

         Suddenly, my wife casually said, “Do you remember the Sunshine Family Wagon?”  Well, I had forgotten about it until that very minute.

         A few years earlier I worked for a trucking company doing OS&D work – over, short, and damaged. My job was to resolve all overages and damages. One day a shipment of toys was seriously water-damaged in transit. I called the shipper and told him about three boxes of a toy called “The Sunshine Family Wagon”.   I followed the procedure and asked if he wanted them returned for re-packaging.  Without hesitation, he said they weren’t worth too much and told me to dump them.  He didn’t want them back.

I took the three toys to the dumpster and dumped two of them.  I looked at the box and thought my four-year-old son would love to play with it. I put it into the trunk of my car.  My little boy loved it!

Back to the conversation with my wife the day before the lie detector test.

“Did you steal the Sunshine Family Wagon?” she asked rather matter-of-factly.

“Oh no, absolutely not!” I explained the circumstances in more detail than was necessary. “Well, it wasn’t yours and he did ask you to throw it in the dumpster.” After more discussion, she accepted my explanation and agreed it was legitimate. 

Fast forward to the next day and the lie detector. A pleasant young woman came in the room and carefully hooked me up to a machine I had never seen before. She advised me to relax and answer the questions that she asked. Initially, they were mundane questions like “What is your name and date of birth?” After a few moments, she blurted out the big one!

“Have you ever stolen anything from an employer?”

Dead silence from the pleasant woman.  She tried again.  “Have you ever stolen from an employer no matter how small?”

Oh (expletive deleted)! I thought to myself. “NO!” I replied again with visions of the Sunshine Family Wagon being pushed by my four-year-old on my living room floor.  I could feel the machine vibrating and envisioned the needle racing across the ceiling.

         “Thank you!  That will be all for today.  Mr. Clark will call you in a few days." He was the creepy dude I met on my first visit.

         Surprise, surprise.  I didn’t get the job. I was never told why but I assumed that I failed the test.  I wish I had been told I failed the test so I didn’t have to spend the next 20 years beating myself up over the Sunshine Family Wagon.

         I vowed I would never take a lie detector test again.