catfish

Anatomy of a Liar Pt. 2

Part One

Bryon and his family’s’ social media accounts showed a very affluent family. He lived the places he said he did. There were pictures of his wife and him together, with and without their adult children, but nothing since year-end 2016.

The conclusion I drew was he perhaps was single, perhaps, but there is no way he’d been split for six years unless they had an unconventional relationship. And if that was the case, if he was actually seeking a new relationship he would be smart enough to say “yes my ex and I are very close, we still do things together blah blah.”

It occurred to me much later that he was so arrogant he didn’t think he needed to do so. He didn’t think anyone would check out his family’s profiles or didn’t care what it showed if they did. Perhaps most women didn’t see the red flags or were blinded by his luxury lifestyle and fancy parties. Continue reading

catfish

They aren’t catfish, but are just as bad.

This may need a new dating term – someone who uses their actual pictures, but who lies about their purpose for being online. They may actually be single as they profess, but they aren’t seeking dating or a relationship. Here’s another story of my being catfished.

The only thing they want is to get off on pictures and a sexually-charged chat.

Some may be willing to speak on the phone, but most aren’t. Some are very clever at how they present and interact, and it’s hard to realize they are not-quite-catfish.

This has happened to me three times in two weeks.  Continue reading

Men who work with their hands.

I was fed up with the bullshit of recent events. It got so bad, my personal trainer, hearing a new disaster or story every week, asked me if I played the lottery because my luck was so bad with men it had to be good elsewhere.

So one recent night, bolstered with a bit of liquid courage, I said “fuck this shit”. If I really wanted someone in my life, I needed to seriously get back in the game. I had opened my Bumble profile a few weeks prior and it was lackluster so far – quite literally, nothing to write about.

I already had open profiles on Coffee Meets Bagel and the League, both which took about 5 minutes of effort each day to say whether I liked the one or two men they served up, and yielded absolutely nothing.  Continue reading

Bruce needs to get his shit together.

I’ve been home from my trip for almost three weeks. In that time, I’ve seen Bruce for a grand total of one hour, on a day I rearranged my schedule to work from home in the morning so he could stop by my place between job sites. It wasn’t quality time; he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him so was sick to his stomach. We had sex which lasted eight minutes.

That’s it.

One hour in three weeks. A grand total of three in-person meetings in the two months since I met him. One after-work drink, one dinner, and a morning quickie.  Continue reading

Oops I did it again. Another first, first date.

I’d hidden my Plenty of Fish profile when Jack asked to be exclusive. When we broke up I wasn’t in a big rush to unhide it again as I had plenty of stuff (aka boys and friends) to keep me occupied. But last week after Ray decided being in different parts of our city was too far for him, I went back to it. I unhid my profile in the hopes of a good first date.

I realized as much as I may say “I’m all done with online dating” or “I’m not going to do what I did before”, it’s at this point less about behavior change (I don’t do as much dumb time-wasting stuff since I’ve been looking for a relationship) and more about mindset.  Continue reading

He’s a lying sack of shit.

Jack and I spoke last week midweek. I’m not sure I will ever speak to him again.

He’d asked for a copy of the dating story about us I’d written for a local paper. We’d had a brief text exchange in which he said “you can text me anytime”, to which I replied given he was so bad at responding with any speed it didn’t make me want to text him. He said he was in therapy and was learning that not replying was a form of control for him.

I called him because I didn’t want my reply to be spread out over the course of several days. I said my issue was that a lack of response was inconsiderate and disrespectful. He sounded like crap. I asked if the therapy was helping and he said he’d had only two sessions so far. He said he’d talked to his ex-girlfriend which helped him process things, but she had little time for it because she had already worked through it. Shocker. Continue reading

Some rules are made to be broken.

It started with a simple status update on FetLife, a site I haven’t been active on in eighteen months. I’d gone to reply to a message from a photographer who wanted to do a photo shoot with me and noticed I still referenced Tony in my profile.

I must have shown up on search results because within 24 hours I received several messages from men. One stood out:

“Loved your profile, I like women who enjoy being shared, double penetration, gangbangs. I don’t post much on my profile, I am somewhat old fashioned in this regard, I like approaching someone I consider interesting. Continue reading

the universe sometimes provides what you need

I may be dropped, but I bounce.

So, Jack broke up with me. It’s been a pretty rare occurrence in the past four years, which I suppose makes me lucky. Not that I haven’t been heartbroken, but I usually do the ending it.

I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I hadn’t fallen in love, and I appreciated Jack’s honesty and reasonably early recognition that he wasn’t emotionally ready for any form of relationship. On the other hand, I really liked Jack and saw potential with him, and am frustrated with how things played out.

Of course, I do wonder if he will come to a later conclusion that I also wasn’t the right person for him. I still don’t know if readiness can be forced, or overlooked, for the right person. Continue reading

Dream, and make it real.

I dream, but I rarely remember them. It seems to happen only when I wake up for a few minutes, then go back to sleep.

Last night I slept the fitful sleep of someone who had two wine dates with girlfriends in the same evening. At 3 am I drank lots of water and took ibuprofen to avoid the inevitable over-imbibing headache.

I dreamt I was traveling to Faraway Lover’s town. My hotel room phone was missing the handset, so I went to the lobby and asked for help to make a phone call. I ended up in a call center, where I tried to call his number. It didn’t work: I couldn’t get through.  Continue reading