I hate polygraph exams.
First, there’s the strap the examiner puts around your chest to measure any change in respiration rate. Probes wrap around the ends of your fingers and constantly monitor your pulse. Next is the blood pressure cuff that re-inflates every few seconds, squeezing the heck out of your biceps while it steals the secrets from your telltale heart.
Lastly, there are the questions. I have found, over the years and after a total of seven polygraph exams, that there are no answers that come without either guilt, humiliation or panic. No matter how many times I have …