How it all Fell Apart Online Dating
Okay, I’m not exactly Don Juan or anything, but I figured that anyone could find a date online. After all, these dating sites advertise themselves specifically to guys like me, ensuring the lonely among us that, regardless of our personalities and proclivities, our special someone awaits. What they don’t tell you, however, is that lies will act as super-strength bug repellant. In hindsight, I guess that little tidbit of information is common sense. But in real time, I really screwed the pooch.
I went the usual route and had the standard apprehensions when creating a profile. Which picture will I use? What will I write about myself? What about “me” will really draw a girl in and show her that I’m a good guy? These are all the questions that ran through my head. So, thinking I was slick, I decided to doctor up my photo. I touched up the eyes, darkened the tone to make it look like I had a tan, and retouched and resized the picture, leaving me with a right handsome appearance, if I don’t say so myself.
Then it was time to tell a little bit about myself. Of course, my job as a waiter wouldn’t do. So, thinking nothing of it, I told a tiny white lie about owning a restaurant. Hey, it’s not the end of the world. Technically, it is sort of my restaurant. I worked there! But anyway, I was 2 for 2 in the all-important looks and career categories.
After a few height and weight tweaks, I was set and ready to go. Move over, Brad Pitt, there’s a new stud in town – and he’ll only date the finest femmes online.
I instantly started to get some hits. Of course, I was initiating the conversation and sending some winks and hugs and all of that, but the ladies seemed mighty responsive. I had three strong prospects running, but I only liked one: a cute little blonde from the next town over. According to her profile, she was a single 34-year-old nurse with an athletic body and no kids. Bingo!
After talking to her for a few weeks, we decided that meeting for dinner wouldn’t hurt anything at all. So with a confident air, I set a time and a date for our first meeting and she gladly agreed.
While getting ready, it never crossed my mind that I wasn’t exactly who I reported myself to be. Honestly, it never felt like I was “that” guy from the profile. I mean, it’s me! I know who I am, and figured she did, too, in some weird denial-heavy way.
About twenty minutes after arriving at the restaurant and sitting down, I noticed this absolutely gorgeous blonde woman walk in. I knew it was her and I was literally breathless. I stood up and waved and, to my surprise, she rolled her eyes and looked right through me. What am I, invisible over here!? Come on – it’s me, your dream date. Sit down, baby.
Finally, I had to go over and introduce myself. In 38 years, I have never seen such a look of disgust in my entire life. She immediately scoffed and berated me for lying. “You’re six inches shorter, sixty pounds heavier and a lot whiter than you are in your pictures. I don’t even think you’re the same guy,” she yelled in the middle of the restaurant.
I was more embarrassed than hurt, and as I was chasing her to her car, some big SOB came out into the parking lot and told me to leave her along or he’d break my face. I guess he thought I was a stalker. I don’t know.
But I did learn a valuable lesson for it all: Don’t lie to people, even if it is online. In hindsight, she might have actually liked the “real” me. She was a nice girl and certainly didn’t deserve to be lied to. So if I had to do it differently, I would have definitely got some spray-on tanner or something.