The more John tries, the more I back away

John had promised to chill out and stop talking about being exclusive and where things were going with us. I wasn’t convinced it could happen, but I wanted to give him a try.

It was now Tuesday. He managed to keep the text traffic to a minimum that day. He knew things were very busy for me at work. He didn’t have a job. I told him when I got home: I had Liam.

He sent a list of all the dates we were going to have by the end of the week, saying I should be in love with him about 20% by Friday. I knew he was trying to be funny, but it only served to make me feel that he really wasn’t listening to my ask of him to take things slow.

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John is romantic; I am irritated.

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Forgot in my prior post to mention that during the game, John had trouble figuring out how to set the lock screen on his Android phone. We figured it out and his choice for lock screen picture was…. the picture I’d sent him of myself. I died a little inside… it seemed WAY too much for me. He also Facebook friend requested me, and I told him I wasn’t accepting it because it was way too soon. But I let it go.

Monday morning he sent me a few song lyrics he wrote for me (hence my reference to him as a poet). It was nice, but I chafed a little at his over-the-top romanticism. Continue reading

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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

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Anatomy of a liar.

This one really made me angry. Bryon wasn’t a catfish in the traditional sense, but he was fishing for something, with no intent to catch this fish.

I knew he was lying about something, right from the beginning – I will tell you why shortly. But being focussed on that lie prevented me from noticing the other signs of a catfish right away.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing for me is to meet someone who was what I seek. You know, if not for the whole douchebag thing. He was intelligent, accomplished, and interesting. But he was an intellectual bully.

He was also likely married. Or at the very least, nowhere near as single as he professed. Continue reading

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Ann was fooled by a catfish.

Yes. I’m embarrassed to say, but I was catfished. It was only for a 24-hour period, but still. I don’t like making those kinds of mistakes. Well, I don’t like making any mistakes at all, but I’m getting far more comfortable with the large number of romantic mistakes I’ve made and will keep making.

The short duration of our exchange hid some of the red flags. And he was very clever.

Like the last one, his pictures were real. They seemed current. He was in his mid-fifties. He had filled out many questions on OK Cupid and had a full descriptive profile. We had a 95% match percentage.

In other words, nothing seemed off. Continue reading

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They aren’t catfish, Part 2

Part One – being catfished

A couple of days of texting later, I asked whether he wanted to meet for a coffee or drink. He said yes, but he didn’t “really know” where I was. When I said my precise location didn’t matter, he called me “miss spy”. We made plans to meet after work that Friday, and our texting for the next day was perfectly normal.

That was Tuesday.

He didn’t text again.

On Saturday, the day after our supposed date, I texted “what happened to us going out yesterday after work” and he replied the next day “I don’t know, I never heard back you disappeared for two days.” He said he wanted to try again. Continue reading

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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

A wee rant about cancelling.

Sometimes, I wonder if men really understand why cancelling last minute is super annoying for women.

The plumber and I have now had two nights where we’ve made plans, and he’s cancelled both at the last minute. I have Liam for an extended period of time, so if he wants to see me, it has to be at my place for a drink after Liam is asleep.

I suppose 9:15 pm is late for someone who starts work at 6am, but I’m in the camp of “don’t make plans if you can’t follow through.” Continue reading

Working my way through the man pipeline.

Last week in the midst of the chaos, I hid my online dating profiles so the only men who see me are those with whom I’ve already connected.

I once referred to online dating as a sales funnel, and it’s true. Once I have a bunch of prospects I can’t handle any more, and need to have them work their way through the pipeline. It’s amazing how quickly one can go from multiple prospects to none. Continue reading

Thinking about Bruce.

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It’s become clear Bruce isn’t ready for the practical realities of dating. He thought he was. He’d taken almost two years before he took the online dating plunge: he said he wasn’t ready before that. I believe him. At his core, I think he’s a good man.

He’s not a Jack, telling women he pursues what they want to hear. He’s no Tony, emotionally incapable of truly leaving his marriage.

He’s Bruce.

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