WAGNALLS and his pal Funk de scribe Truth as fact or reality. Me, I parse it in three words: For-Get-It! Anyone who agrees with you will lie about other things, too.

I have determined certain types of truth have flexibility. For instance, a maitre d' says his restaurant's all booked up? Let's call this maitre TipTop - as in, you don't tip him, he blows his top. TipTop may be 5-foot-3 but his palms are 6-foot-2. Grease him with a sawbuck and the joint is suddenly not all that booked. So, dirty filthy baldfaced lie? Naaah. This is what's best referred to as the American way.

Another form of such free enterprise can best be described by the souk in Istanbul. This greatest mall in captivity has everything including brand new antiques. Also goodies that might've been on the person of someone else five minutes earlier. And the sellers know every trick and shtick. One dealer gave me Turkish coffee followed by a song and dance. "Madam," he said, showing me a necklace, "Cast your eyes upon this most exquisite bejeweled handwork. I swear by Allah and may I never see my family again if I am lying. The piece I hold in my unworthy hands is a true one of a kind. I absolutely 100 percent guarantee that this totally and actually laid upon the neck of Mehmet the Conqueror."

Two stores down - the same identical necklace. Either Mehmet was a real spender or that "one of a kind" is two of a kind.

One of truth's greatest adjustments took place when aging film star Marlene Dietrich hated how she looked on screen. The face, puffed, eyes a bit watery. She turned on the cameraman with: "What's wrong with you? When last we worked together you knew what you were doing." He said gently, "Miss Dietrich. That was 10 years ago. Today I am 10 years older."

Humans who insist they always tell the truth? Please. They're lying.

Certain liberties are inbred. Like, females automatically make adjustments to age or weight. These they diminish. Men automatically make adjustments in terms of sexual scores. These they up. Golf scores? Down. Income? Up. Times anything else stayed down? Down.

And when it comes to cheating and facelifts, all bets are off multisexually. Boys, girls, gays, lesbians, trannies, makes no never. In that case it's: Mr. Wagnalls, funk you!

Degrees of fact sometimes depend on the person to whom you are speaking. A nosy IRS agent asks, "What's your house worth?" You answer, "$400,000." A jealous co-worker asks? You answer, "Over a million."

Truth offends. You really want to tell a friend her lousy dress with the ruffles makes her look like an elephant in heat? Or that kissing her dainty mouth is like diving into a two-car garage?

And then maybe you have a deep-seated neurotic insecurity. Say a person admires your outfit. You reply, "It's a Carolina Herrera." So what that it never even laid next to an Irving Herrera remnant in a Gap outlet. So whom are you hurting except, maybe, Carolina Herrera. This is not so venal that it requires 12 Hail Marys.

I'm actually up to here with Truth. I get them in those letters that call me by my first name and start, "Dear Stupid."

Diplomacy. Diplomacy is simply an honest way of lying. Like the periodontist's receptionist who says, "I'm so sorry I kept you waiting." You know she doesn't give a rat's ass. And then in a cross between diplomacy and dentistry she says, "It'll just be another five minutes." You know that's a good half-hour.

Contractors, however, are exempt from all forms of genuineness. Their brand of honesty comes with the job application. With most people a lie is a last resort. With a contractor it's first aid. As for a politician, an honest one is one who's never been caught.

And, of course, workers with expense accounts are excluded. One lady received four offers from publishers for the fiction rights to hers. Also, we omit lovers. The only time a lover tells the truth is when he admits he's lying.

I know a wife who wants to do a book titled, "How to Housebreak a Husband." Why? Because she tells hers what he needs to hear. He absolutely cannot fathom why something so small is so expensive? No problem. She just tells him it's less. He has no respect for something else that's so cheap? No problem. She tells him it's more. We're talking creative honesty. I was just on TV burbling about Yorkies. Trying to hustle a book, I said, "One reason to love dogs is they don't say you're fat and they'll sleep with you even if you've got a zit on your face. Dogs are better than sex." My manicurist asked, "You really believe that?"

What could I say? That I out-and-out lied? Certainly not. I used diplomacy. I told her, "Listen, hon. I can only talk about what I know."