There was something about Hookup Guy having such a
narrow window of time that made him seem a little sus. Sure, he could have just
been horny and urgent (like, you know, ME) but it felt like he was on more of a
cheating husband schedule than a divorced dad schedule. I knew I had to look
him up before I let him come over anymore.
These moments never don’t remind me of Psyche bringing
the lamp into Cupid’s room and wrecking everything. Darn lamp!
I couldn’t find anything under the name he’d given me,
aside from a lower-rung Marvel actor. A facebook search turned up various
not-hims. He’d told me that in addition to his teaching work, he had started
doing real estate on the side, so I tried “fake name realtor” in the search bar
and still found nothing. I know not everyone is an internet open book, but
sheesh.
So I typed in his phone number and up came the same
him with a different last name. He did seem divorced on his (mostly
professional) facebook page. And there he was, a ways back, holding up his “I’m
vaccinated” sticker, so at least he wasn’t lying about that? I suppose anyone
could get a sticker though. Should I be asking to see vaccine cards? I mean,
you can fake those too! Will this fall’s adventures land me in Deltaville?
It’s very Nineties to wonder if fucking is going to
kill me. And also very now, very always, I guess.
I texted him to ask why he’d given me a wrong last
name, but I knew there wasn’t any answer he could give that would change
things. After a few skeptical-but-hopeful hours, I blocked and unmatched.
People are just gone so fast sometimes.
I felt more off-balance from Hookup Guy’s lying than
from the morning’s bad date, but the combination of the two left me feeling
discouraged, self-slut-shamed, and generally turned upside down. The sense of
unreality that permeates all of 2021 life and especially online dating descended
like a not-cute cloud.
I talked it over with Pagan Boy’s Crush (I’ve come to
think of PBC and Sweetie-Now-BFF, along with my new therapist, as my emotional
board of directors. I stole that idea from someone, but I forget who.) and
realized that I’d been handing out so much trust and generosity lately, and I
needed to turn some of that towards myself.
Now, a week later, I’ve basically stopped swiping for
the time being. New therapist referred to The Lovely Guy as my “regular (his
name)” and I think I’ve got us into a nicely casual place. (knock wood) There’s
This Charming Man who has nothing to do with The Smiths and everything to do
with ropes and good texting! I should probably write about him soon.
And there’s friends. And work. And sleep. And time’s
almost up on my 2021 goals. I’m happier and less scattered than I was a week
ago, so that’s good. And it’s only mostly because of the ropes. 😊
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