If I were walking down the street and someone asked me directions, I would not tell the truth. I would direct them to where they might find a fountain or a famous person landing in a helicopter. I would explain the best way to approach a horse, which is not from behind, or I would tell them about riding in a hot air balloon.
If I were sitting on an airplane, and the person in the next seat wanted to chat with me, I would let them. If they asked about my life, I would tell them that I had always lived on airplanes because I breathed easier at higher altitudes.
I might divulge that my mother hated to visit me because she found flying unpleasant. They would probably ask why I wasn’t a flight attendant or pilot and I would laugh and say that I was not good in the service industry, and that pilots have to leave sometimes, for training and the like, and this way, I could step into an airport and onto another plane without ever having a break.
If I were climbing a tree and someone noticed and wanted to come up, I would send down a note that said “no visitors allowed” or “visiting hours: 8-10 am” (if I wanted them to come back and visit).
If I were in a bar and some boys got into a fight, I would force a détente by hanging wildly from the ceiling and leaping onto their backs. Then I would buy everyone a nonalcoholic beverage to celebrate. But I would not tell them that it was nonalcoholic because I would be doing it to save their livers and they wouldn’t care much about the health of their livers and would therefore be ungrateful.