No Cupid, no Bumble.
I am done.
And this time, I am not bullshitting. Do you see my face? I know, you don’t. But fuck I wish you could. I am pissed. Not just upset, or over it. But I am mad. Do you hear my “voice”? Read my words, all y’all…I have hit rock fucking bottom, and I have pulled every God damn plug I can possibly pull. It’s not okay what happened to me last night, and I’m going to share it so maybe I can help someone else. I felt stupid, sure. And vulnerable, of course. But mostly, I was scared. I couldn’t believe it could happen to me. A women so “cyber savvy”. But it did. It happened. And let me tell you, it happens all the time…
I was on OkCupid.
And I started chatting with this really great guy.
He was nice looking. And had a creative profile. A man with no kids. Divorced. Lived in Charlotte. 6’1″. Brown hair, brown eyes. Lived in Providence Country Club. He was a Leo. I read on. He was artistic, and liked dogs. Loved Will Ferrell and Vince Vaughn. And he was looking for a long-term relationship. Perfect. Trust me, there was much more. He seemed great; so many seem great. Shit they all seem great. At least the ones I pick. And I never really send messages to too many guys…but the ones I do, have to be good ones. So, this guy…I thought was worth it. And with in minutes, he had replied. And we started our text exchanges. Cute, and witty. Sharp and funny. He was good. And kept my attention. Asked all the right questions. And had all the right answers. Got personal. We talked for 2 hours.
We texted on that site for two hours.
I am not embarrassed to share my story. Or to tell you that on a Friday night I talked for two hours with a guy on a dating site, because it’s what single people do. We make connections. I’m at home, with my kids asleep. I’m not in a bar. I don’t have married friends to go out with to dinner at the country club. I’m single. And this is what single people do. Unless I have laundry, or I’m blogging. Or I decide it’s Friday-Face Mask Night, I’m usually drinking wine, chatting online with some cool fella. I’m not ashamed. So, that’s what I was doing…
When he asked me for my phone number so we could talk in person. After all, we had been chatting on the Cupid site for so long! And shared so many stories, personal things about our divorces….and our kids. Our lives. My life. So, he gives me his. And I give him mine. Which I have done a GAZILLION times. I mean, we have to trust people, right? People are good in this world, and not all men are assholes. And not all women are “bat shit cray”…and so he texts me. And I reply.
And he texts me back…
My heart dropped. And the hair on the back of my neck stood up. And a chill ran through my entire body. I looked down at the screen in front of me, on the Cupid site, and his profile was gone. Poof. Totally deleted. Like he was never there. I froze. And I quickly tried to Google his full name, to see if he was real. He had to be real. I typed as fast as I could into the search bar, and he came up. His name came up…thank God.
Dead. Deceased. He was not a real person. He had been dead for 11 years. This person I was talking to for the past two hours was using a dead man’s name. Then I googled his phone number he gave me. Nothing. He used an app called Magic Jack. Fuck. An app for getting a second number on your phone line, secretly. So that no one knows you have it. Perfect for stalkers, or cheating bastards. Or pedafiles. Take your pick. Nice, huh? I was so scared, I couldn’t breathe. I thought about the boys, and if I had said anything about their school? Omg. Did I mention where they went to school? Fuck. The blog. He must have read the blog. My head was spinning. He can get all my information with my phone number. It’s called “scrambling”. And your phone numbers are also on your FB accounts (they have to be used to activate the accounts, fyi).
I immediately blocked his number in my phone. Then I called OKC and reported “him”. I mean, what the fuck else was I supposed to do, besides feel like the biggest asshole on the planet? So that’s why I am writing this. To help other people. One of my dear friends said he couldn’t believe it didn’t happen sooner. I am out there, but does that make it right? Doesn’t everyone deserve a certain level of privacy? Or a right to feel safe, to trust…to fall in love? To meet a good guy; A nice girl.
I am so scared now. Freaked out. Sad. I’m actually sad. I feel like I may never be able to trust another person again. And unless I meet a guy in my face, I’m done dating. Sad this fucked up world we live in. OkCupid emailed me today, asking what they could do to make my “experience better”. I replied, give me those two hours back.