So I meet him online and we click. He’s uber intelligent and witty with hot photos to boot. Yeah I can be superficial. Sue me. Anyhoo I ask the question anything on your profile that isn’t true? This has become a standard internet date question as it avoids protests months down the line that they do it to avoid being stalked or women finding out their real identify. Like I really think their mothers named them Drlove. So he admits to being married. My heart sunk. But then he adds separated with a divorce in process. I mull it over and conclude we are all damaged goods and that we could at least be friends. Let the games commence!
On the first meet all is going well. He chooses a great restaurant, conversation flowed as opposed to alcohol and we agreed at the end that it had gone much better than we had both expected. Long hug at the end and I was feeling optimistic. The only sour was his age and nationality. Online 34 and from central Africa, offline 44 and from Nigeria. The old ‘until I know you are not a wacko’ line is given and I fall for it gulping down the 10 year lie.
Daily emails ensued apart from a blip over Christmas where I didn’t hear from him. Apparently his ‘depressed’ wife had a wobble over making the Christmas dinner which had rendered his hands incapable of using a computer (or the oven). Let’s not be quick to judge. Christmas is a stressful time for families, singles and …..divorcing couples it would seem.
At our next meeting he met my friend Linda and immediately introduced himself by a completely different name. His explanation was that he didn’t use his African name much as English people couldn’t say it. Then his brother walked into the theatre and used another African name. Who was this man that I had spent 3-4 months talking to? He claimed that we were kindred spirits and yet I knew nothing about him. I was beginning to get that feeling and as the curtain went down on Fela! The musical so too did my heart.
So I asked him about the names and he gave me a very plausible and polished explanation on the different names from English boarding schools. Not to be duped again I googled him. The details all made sense and breathing a sigh of relief I redid all of my doodles of our names together.
Then came his final email. Turns out he wanted to work on his marriage but his ‘depressed’ wife wanted a divorce. I had a flash of years of stories, missed Christmases and the uncertainty of always knowing that he got to choose whilst I only got to wait. NEXT!
I pressed delete, reached for a credit card and reluctantly logged back onto a dating site. First line of my profile now reads ‘Married, separated, liars or unsure need not apply!’