Happy almost Spring, everyone! We made it, or damn near there. I'm sure we'll have a few random snowstorms here in Chicago until May, but it won't stay around long as the worst weather is in the rear view. Well done, everyone.
Some of you remember that for several years, I have been desperately trying to scam an online dating scammer, as it is my duty. Not all heroes wear capes, after all.
I'll back up for the uninitiated. Approximately 30% of the profiles on apps like Bumble or Tinder are fake. Here's how it works: One dude, probably in Nigeria, China, or Romania, runs multiple profiles and maintains numerous conversations with women until he hooks an idiot and convinces them to part with their money, typically by sending gift cards of some kind or another.
Here are two examples of scammers that I have failed to ensnare, both times because of my peri-menopausal rage kicked in prematurely before the bait was set.
.JPG)
.JPG)
This makes me furious, as the victims are merely women--and men--who are just trying to find a connection, which is why I typically lose my cool before setting my own hook.
I've had some promising starts but have never made it too far. My method is I swipe on all the obvious scammers and then just wait. Sadly, I think I'm in a particularly vulnerable age group. Older women are easily flattered by attention from younger guys..I get it. Not my first rodeo with younger guys, as I'm sure you all remember from this blog.
Below is a sampling of some of the real guys who hit my dating app feeds. I know. I'm so lucky to still be out there with so many promising candidates. Adam, for example is 99 and just wants to suck toes.
The Invisible Years
Here's another fun fact: women my age are absolutely invisible to a significant portion of the male population. I've lived in a gayborhood for the last decade so being invisible to the opposite sex is something I've grown quite accustomed to. Perhaps too much since I don't even glance into a mirror before going anywhere in my hood.
I won't lie; there are times when this cloak of invisibility has its advantages. Like when you're trying to smuggle illegal items...like a granola bar 😉, into a music fest. No problem! Security people assume we "invisible" women are incapable of such crimes!
But more often than not, it's just a big bowl of bummer. I'll admit it; back in the day, I used to be a "head turner." I don't mean to imply I'm beautiful; I'm not, but I'm cute and approachable enough that men would look at me. Don't get me wrong; I'm probably still a hottie to some demographics; I would slay in a senior living community, but I digress...
Back to the story...
One day I matched with an insanely attractive man on one of the dating apps (photo available, upon request). He fit the classic scammer profile: very handsome, good photos, exotic travel, check, check, check. He was 6'4", which is NOT my thing, but height appears to be most women's kryptonite, so more likely to be a fake account. He was possibly also a little outside my normal dating age range, but it didn't matter. There is no chance this is a real man.
Anyway, we started messaging on the app back and forth. I'm being patient, polite and on alert for the typical first questions from scammers. No huge red flags but I was certainly ready for them when they started flying.
We messaged a few times and then a few months later, he sent a message that he was going to be in Chicago. Ok, so the one thing that a true scammer will NEVER do is ask to meet in real life.
Ok, so now I was confused. If he's not a scammer, what is going on? Ah, I got it! He's a crypto bro! That's it! He had mentioned being a crypto investor in a previous message. Cryptocurrency is all the rage and Shitler is all in so that's driving values up. He's going to try and sell me Bitcoin.
I went back and forth on whether I should go, but ultimately decided that the worst thing that could happen is I spend an evening pretending to listen to a handsome man talk about BitCoin. Or he looks nothing like his pictures and is in reality a 60-year-old unemployed plumber living in his mom's basement. Or he's a serial killer.
Either way, I felt like it could also be a hilarious blog so I went (you're welcome, readers!). We made plans to meet late afternoon at a small bar.
Before leaving, I showed my daughter his picture and said, "I'm meeting this guy and he's either going to catfish me, try to sell me BitCoin or kill me. If I don't come back, this is him. Or not."
I arrive at the bar and there he was! I am stunned to see he is as cute in person as he was in his profile pictures. He is all of 6'4" and he's real.
We ordered drinks and talked about various things, no huge red flags flying. After a half hour, I could no longer take the suspense. I shot-gunned a beer to calm my nerves and blurted out, "What are we doing here? Seriously? Are you going to try and pitch me Bitcoin?"
His expression indicated he was bewildered by the inquisition. He finally said, "Well, I actually prefer older women and I think you are really attractive and possibly selling yourself a bit short."
Assuming that was not a short joke, I was shocked. I honestly never actually considered that option. We had a great time, went to a couple of bars, ate dinner, another bar, drank way too much, and made out in dark street corners and bars. I'm not going to lie. It was exhilarating. I felt sexy and desirable.
Then I got tired.
We had met up at 5p.m., and now, 5+ hours later, I was losing steam as the multiple drinks were having a sedative effect. I took a glance at my watch and it was 10:45.
So, while he was in the bathroom, I called my Uber. He looked puzzled when I announced I was leaving. I'm pretty sure he didn't see that coming. People his age stay up late, and guys who look like that don't get bailed on by women before 11 p.m., especially after vibing for the last few hours.
Cinderella had to be home by midnight or her carriage would turn into a pumpkin.
 |
| ChatGPT's version of a Perimenopausal Cinderella |
Peri-Menopausal Cinderella's self-imposed curfew is 11PM, as sleep is now her love language. Her carriage is an Uber, and her prince Charming was two decades younger...and possibly a Republican (though I didn't inquire enough to kill the buzz). And, sadly, getting in bed alone with her dogs sounded pretty enticing.
I got into the Uber and started laughing uncontrollably. I'm sure the driver thought I was insane. I arrived to find Laura waiting at the door, having been GPS tracking my ass all night. Apparently every change of venue caused her to think I was being abducted.
She made me agree to stay on the north side of 40 in the dating world, and as she was walking away, I said, "He's way too tall anyway," to which she flipped me the bird without turning around.
End of story. Well, until last week, when I was in Houston for a week for work. My "friend" lives there and we went out one night and had a great time...and I almost made it to midnight! 😉
Wow, that got long but thanks for reading!
Happy Almost Spring, everyone.
Until next time,
Barb
Miss any blogs? Catch up below:
