Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Thursday, August 18, 2005 Liar Liar
I suppose it’s the time worn adage. Ignore a man and they’re like putty in your hands. To a lot of people, men in particular, I’ve noticed, there’s nothing more attractive than a challenge, and best of all, winning that challenge and claiming victory and control. (“I am in control. I have toyed and manipulated the truth and you and now your destiny is mine, all mine! Bwa ha ha. The mind games will commence in 4-3-2-1” Bitter? Me? Nawww. Cynical and jaded, yes, bitter, no.)
My report based on a lot of observation in the dating and business worlds is that people who seek out, either intentionally or unconsciously, a challenging partner or relationship are not in it because they like the challenge. They’re in it because they like to win. These are competitive people with an insecure streak who only feel good about themselves when they win. And once they win they’re bored or insecure and need another challenge, another goal, another victory, another situation to control and manipulate. Some of them may even admit they like a challenge. But. If you ask them why, have them really talk about what they get out of a situation which requires a lot of effort and very little chance of return, eventually the biggest smile and excitement will be revealed when they talk about how much better the reward is because they’ve worked so hard to earn it. Okay. If we’re talking about a regional sales drive, yes, those goals and effort are worth it.
But. When we’re talking about attaining a person for a date or a relationship, that’s more than a little concerning. If a person has to work that hard to get a would be partner’s attention, there’s probably a very good reason why. The other person simply is not interested, doesn’t feel the same way or just plain doesn’t like the pursuer. You know how on exams you’re supposed to always go with your first instinct? Same with dating. I know, I know, the wedding chapels are filled with people who didn’t like each other at first. I know. But. In those cases there was some emotional connection – something transpired for that dislike to exist. The challenge in those cases was to redeem whatever the issue was that caused the dislike, have a conversation and a mutually agreeable plan to move forward and try to forgive and forget.
In the case of no “chemistry” or just plain not being interested, the challenge is not “worth it” because the “winning” involves either the pursuer or pursuee to radically change their mind or ideas. The pursuer is usually the one who does this. They’ll change their clothing style, political or religious views, even a job in order to appear to be the person their target wants. They’re playing a game and creating a character who will attract the pursuee. I suppose there are cases where this is actually a good thing, for instance if a person smokes and quits because they have a crush on a non smoker, then, well, I mean, that’s great. As long as the smoker is able to continue to not smoke. Because sooner or later, the truth comes out, the real personality of the pursuer is revealed, and the pursuee is left standing there confused and feeling like an idiot for being taken in by the lies. Naturally they are hurt and angry and resentful. But the pursuer doesn’t really care because they’ve won, the victory is theirs, and they’re getting bored anyway. They don’t want to pretend to be whatever they were pretending to be, and they are ready to move onto the next challenge, the next personality they are going to try on in the name of love.
These are personality liars. I’ve met a lot of them over the course of my dating career. The core issue seems to be insecurity. They’re not comfortable being themselves. They feel they have to embellish or altogether change themselves, lie, in order to attract the sort of partner they want at the moment. They might have been doing this so long – maybe all their life – that they don’t even have a personality to call their own. They are personality chameleons or worse, personality sappers.
I met this guy online a few months ago. He read my revised no emotion, no romance, financial and societal partner profile and thought I was the girl for him. (Hold your scoffs – you would not believe the responses I’ve had to those profiles. Strange and weird men, yes, but, hoo boy are there a lot of lonely, emotionally drained people out there. More on that another day.) This guy seemed different. He seemed like he was coming from the same point of view as me, and, all indications based on our profiles and his introductory email to me were that we had a lot in common. Even though he lived in another state and traveled between there and Europe regularly, I thought, well, okay, worth an email. I travel a lot, too. His state isn’t that far away and O’Hare is an international hub, he’s bound to pass through there at some point. I can at least say hello, we might be able to offer each some support in our quest for an unconventional partnership.
He was very pleased to hear from me. He wrote back asking lots of questions about me and requesting another photo.
I answered a few of his questions, asked him a lot of questions, and didn’t send another photo.
He immediately responded with, “Where’s the photo? I asked you for another photo.” That’s it. Those two sentences were the entire email.
Okay. I have an okay photo of myself posted with my profile. Everything this guy needs to see at this point is right there in front of him. And I clearly state I am not looking for any sort of mutual physical attraction, that I am much more interested in common goals and outlooks than being attracted to a man or him to me.
So I said, “Easy there, boy. There’s a photo posted on my profile which shows you everything you need to know at this point.” And I then again asked him a lot of questions about things noted in his profile, his job, home, more of the usual stuff. Note that I said nothing about his slightly out of focus photo posted with his profile. Notice that I didn’t care what he looked like.
He responded vaguely to most of my questions, answering questions with questions.
In his profile he claimed to have a post graduate degree. When I pressed him for details, basic stuff like his major and where’d he gone to university he was very evasive. I smelled that rat instantly. I let it go without comment because, really, in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter. The lying matters, but, I mean, look at my (needs a new nickname) boss. Her CV is filled with lies, bogus degrees and highly exaggerated credentials. Everyone knows it, no one cares. She’s a fraud but the only one it bothers or affects is me. I let it go for the time being. “Eh, he’s got a job, what difference does it make?”
About that job. He listed a city and state of residence on his profile. You know, the place most people say they live? I originally thought, uh uh. No way. No more long distance relationships for me. I’ve spent way too much time on my own, way too much time apart from the people I care about most. My family, best friends and, well, That One Guy Who Emotionally Mattered (HWNMNBS, I’m trying out new names for him), are far flung all over the globe. If a guy is able and willing to come to me, fine. But. There are exactly seven people whom I am willing to deeply invest myself in over great distances. And Liar Liar wasn’t one of them. Swut, I would have leapt at the opportunity with Brit Barrister if I were willing to again allow myself get sucked into the LDR drama. He at least is willing to discuss his education and area of study.
Right. Liar Liar. When I asked him what he did for a living, what took him to Europe regularly, again, all I got from him was more evasiveness. Not even evasiveness, more like complete lack of response and change of subject. Which led me to assume he is a counter intelligence operative, a drug dealer, an independently wealthy international playboy, or doesn’t actually have a job which takes him anywhere. I even wondered if he actually had a job at all, somewhat jokingly.
The joke was on me when it was finally (after several weeks) revealed that he was in fact unemployed.
Okay. Right. Well. You know. I’ve been unemployed. It happens. It sucks. The Guy I Gave All of My Love (GIGAOML, hmmm, maybe) was unemployed for a while. Benjy was unemployed for over a year. It happens. I understand. It’s embarrassing and depressing and it sucks. I really do understand. But. Don’t swutting lie about it. And especially don’t make exaggerated and delusional claims about your fake employment. Unless of course you’re my (needs a new nickname) boss whose exaggerated and delusional claims about her previous work history are making the company look good to unsuspecting clients and awed underlings who don’t realize there’s no way her claims of experience could be true. I can kind of sort of understand lying about your employment status to a prospective date, at least at first. I mean, well, I understand. Especially if you’re looking for a meal ticket or a quick roll in the sack. But if you actually like the prospective date and are hoping for future dates, at some point the truth will be revealed and the more honest you’ve been about your employment the better. Just say something like this, “I’m actually taking some time off from work right now. I’m taking some classes and trying to sort out how I want to spend the rest of my career.” There. Done. The truth is out there, no one gets hurt.
Right. Liar Liar. As the weeks and emails passed, the untruth tally rose exponentially.
Most of them were lies by omission, most of them were about things which don’t really matter. I wasn’t emotionally invested in this guy, I had no expectations, so, whatever, no big deal.
And then one day, he let something huge slip by his lie detector. I’ll just come right out with it because the back story is stupid. Let’s just leave it with: Liars always slip up in a detail somewhere along the line.
That city and state of residence thing? Yeah. Well. A little more distance there than the profile indicates. Turns out he’s swutting Welsh. As in living in Wales, Welsh. Tom Jones Welsh. UK Welsh. He said he has been to the states, though, and considered taking a job here. Oh. Okay. Well, I mean, that’s almost the same thing as residing in a US state and traveling to Europe for business regularly. Splitting hairs, really.
When I asked for an explanation he claimed he was on vacation in the states, visiting the state he listed on his profile, and wanted to meet girls there. He’s just never bothered to change the profile. His “member since…” date is three years old.
I wrote him a quick, “Sorry, I don’t want a long distance relationship, you’ve misrepresented yourself in a big bad way. I need honesty and integrity in my friendships and anything we’ve had in the way of friendship or working toward meeting has all been based on a lie. I can’t abide by that. Not too many people will, so you might want to consider at least being honest about where you live on your profile.” Note that I did not mention the fraud policy of the dating site, or that one email to them from me would get his membership permanently deleted.
A day later I got a long, long, long email from him explaining why he has the lies posted, and that from here on out he’d be completely honest with me and would honestly answer any questions I asked. “I really like you, Trill, I really, honestly do. I like how you are, I like who you are, and I was just so overwhelmed that you’d even give me the time of day that I didn’t know how to tell you the profile wasn’t entirely honest. You’ve already given me so much insight and I’ve learned so much from you, please, give me a chance. Can I call you? Maybe if we talk about this it will be better than email.”
I know, I know, I hear you, “Nooooooooooooooo, Trillian, don’t do it!”
I wasn’t emotionally invested in him and didn’t intend to be, and, given the distance and the lying I was thinking nothing other than friendly correspondence. Because he was unemployed I didn’t think he’d have the money to make an international call, even if he did have a low rate plan, so, you know, really, I wasn’t too concerned.
I should have been.
Because Liar Liar is a serial drunk dialer. Fortunately the time difference works in my favor. When it’s last call where he is, it’s still early evening for me. When it’s opening time for the matinee drinkers, I’m heading out the door to work. Liar Liar began calling very regularly, very drunk. I began screening my calls or was legitimately not home when he rang.
Guys, really, I’m not opposed to a drunk dial now and then. Really. It happens. Most women are okay with an occasional (once a month, max) drunk dial if you’re not actually stalking her or a convict or making violent threats. Sometimes it’s even kind of cute, you know, if you’re a cute and mushy drunk. But. If you know you are either a crude or mean drunk, do not dial a woman you are interested in dating. Or anyone else for that matter. You have no idea what you’re saying, how stupid you sound, and how really offensive you are.
Liar Liar is a crude drunk. He would leave stupid crude jokes usually involving some part of my female anatomy. I finally sent him an email asking him to refrain from calling me when he’s that drunk. I’m not a prude, I said, but really, when you’re not drunk, too, those jokes just aren’t funny and are offensive. Note that I didn’t mention how inappropriate and weird it was for him to be drunk dialing me with crude jokes when we’d never even had a regular, non drunk conversation. Note that I didn’t mention he was behaving well below his age level. Note that I didn’t mention that he was stupid and annoying. Note that I didn’t mention that his repeated calls are phone harassment. Note that I didn’t mention that the calls were getting frequent and bad enough that I had already looked into his country’s and phone company’s policies on phone harassment and that if I so chose I could block his number and press international harassment charges against him via his phone company. Note that I was a very, very understanding good sport about all of this. Everyone agree? Was I being uptight or holier than thou?
He did apologize, via email, and said he’d been out drinking a lot lately to celebrate various events. I understood. Really I did. And the drunk dials ceased.
He continued to email me almost daily. The emails contained less and less words and more and more stupid internet jokes and crass photos which litter the junk boxes of anyone who has an email account. I know he was trying to spread some joy and mirth. I know his intentions were good. I know he was just being his version of nice. I know that. And I was okay with it. Really. But, in terms of getting to know him better, well, they didn’t tell me anything about him except that he gets a lot of crap email, apparently enjoys getting crap email, and thinks nothing of forwarding crap email far and wide. You know, okay, whatever. Fine. Some of those inspiration and pithy email things are thoughtful or at least well intended. The disgusting or stupid photos, on the other hand, well, I mean, again, I’m no prude. I haven’t seen it all, but I’ve seen most of it. But. Soft porn photos with truck stop humor slogans written on them don’t excite, impress or humor me. Especially not from a guy who pursued me online, lied in his profile, doesn’t have job and drinks a lot. Note that I did not ask him to stop sending them. Note that I did not block his email address. Note that I did not forward them to my email account provider as offensive unsolicited porn. Note that all I did was delete them. Am I being uptight about this? Should I lighten up? Was I being uptight or holier than thou?
He then started asking me why I wasn’t emailing him except when he emailed me. I thought about what I should or could tell him. I decided to take the honest approach. Here’s exactly what I wrote him. “(Liar Liar), when you first wrote me it sounded like we were in similar situations. There were a lot of lies from your end. That’s not exactly encouraging for me, not exactly making me want to open up to you. I like you enough that I thought we might have enough in common to be friends. But you haven’t really shared much of yourself with me, so I’m not getting to know you better. I like and need cerebral interaction. I thrive on the exchange of ideas. I like to hear other points of view and talk about them. Communication is a huge deal to me. Lying aside, it seems like deep down in there is a swell guy, you have swell tendencies, but for us to be friends I need to learn more about you, how you think, what you like, don’t like, all that stuff. As it stands I don’t really know a whole lot about you, I don’t even know what you studied in school or what sort of a job you want.” (Note that I did not mention the crude drunk dials or the soft porn emails.)
He replied that I was wrong, he shared a lot with me. Maybe we just needed to talk.
“Yeah, probably. But not when you’ve been drinking, har har.” I responded.
Sure enough, that night he called and wasn’t drunk. We actually had a nice conversation. However. He claimed to be a non smoker on his profile. Which is pretty much the only area in which I will not wiggle. I could hear him smoking. Yes. You know that inhale and exhale sound smokers don’t think anyone else hears? Yeah. That sound. So I slated him about it. I said, “Are you smoking?!”
“Wow. How’d you know? I don’t smoke very often. Just now and then.” He said way too casually considering he emphatically told me he was a non smoker.
“People can hear when you inhale and exhale.” I said trying to mask my annoyance at yet another lie, trying to see the humor in this continually pathological lying.
“Wow. You must have really good hearing. I’ll have to be careful not to fart, too. You’ll hear it and probably smell through the phone.”
Passive aggressive dig or crude sense of humor? I’m not sure and I don’t care.
That pretty much negated any progress we’d made in the conversation.
I made an excuse and ended the call.
He sent me a big long flowery email.
Uh oh. He’s playing the emotion card. Even though I emphatically say in my profile I do not want any emotional or romantic attachments. Even though I make it very clear that I am not going to give romantic or emotional effort in a partnership. He began playing the romance game.
He began telling me he loved me.
I hear you saying, “He’s psycho! Run, Trill, run!”
And you’re right. He’s a psycho liar. But he’s also unemployed and living 5,000 miles away. Not exactly a huge or immediate threat to my safety.
I pondered what to do about his proclamation of emotion, the granddaddy of all emotions. I assumed it was either another lie, a crazy mixed up kid caught up in the intrigue, or a sick attempt to get something from me-either an emotional proclamation or money or a green card.
If he’s a crazy mixed up kid, well, I mean, I need to set him straight. Ditto if he’s trying to get something from me. But if it’s a lie the best response was no response. So I did nothing for a few days as I pondered this.
Then he wrote another flowery email saying he was sorry for coming on so strong, he just really likes me. And then listed off all the ways we are so alike and how I’m so wonderful and we’d be foolish not to see what was right in front of our faces.
Okay. Fine. Time to set him straight. “(Liar Liar) I made it very clear I do not want an emotional commitment. You said you were in the same situation. I made it very clear I do not want a long distance relationship. You said you agreed. I cannot give you anything more than friendship, and that’s only via email and a call or two. I understand if you want more from me, but, you have to understand I cannot give it to you. All those things you listed are not actually true. You’ve lied to me from day one, you appear to be trying to be someone you’re not, someone you think I want. That’s not going to work for either of us. It’s up to you to decide if you can be yourself and if you want to then continue to try to be friends.”
And that, I thought, was that.
I ignored this guy and he was throwing himself at me. I responded to his emails when I had time, offered a sympathetic ear and a few points of view, but gave very little of myself to him. I was wise to his ways, I realized he was trying to suck information out of me so that he could mimic me or become what I wanted. Which, yes, in a way, is flattering, and, if we were 14 it might even be kind of cute. But. As an adult behavior it’s creepy and stupid and childish. Especially combined with the increasingly frequent and huge lies and the crude drunk dials and soft porn email.
I don’t want much from a man, but I certainly want him to be honest and to have his own personality. In fact, in my new dream partnership, the guy is going to need a strong personality and interests of his own because we’re not giving each other emotional commitments. I state that very clearly in my profile. He can’t be trying to sponge off my personality or try to fit some perceived mould. In fact, that’s not just true in my situation, that’s true in any relationship situation. Be your swutting self. And if you don’t think yourself is good enough to interest a particular partner, you’re either insecure or correct in the assumption they won’t like you. In the former case, work on building some confidence in yourself, think about your good traits and qualities. If it’s the latter, move on. Just move on. Lying and pretending to be something you are not will not get you anywhere. Instead, work on yourself. If you’re a jerk, take some time off from dating and work on developing yourself. Read some books, volunteer, do something for other people and guess what? You’ll learn a lot about yourself. Funny how that works. Trust me on this. Develop your own personality, be honest, have some integrity and we’ll all be a lot happier.
I thought maybe Liar Liar would mature from this episode and maybe, hopefully, the next girl he chooses to approach won’t have to deal with at least as many lies as I did. Yeah. Saint Trillian. Prepping men for other women since 2001.
I really thought after spelling it all out for him he’d leave me alone for a while.
But this is me. Of course there’s more.
A few days later I got an email from a name I didn’t recognize. First and last name. Spam, I thought. The message line said, “Let’s be friends.”
Yep. Spam.
Delete.
The next day, same name, this time, “I hope you’re not mad, can I call you tonight?”
Spam.
Delete.
That night, the phone rang. Liar Liar. “Hi Trill. Didn’t you get my emails?”
“No, what emails?”
“I sent one yesterday and today. I do want to be friends. You’re right, you were honest and I should have believed you.”
“Wait a minute. You sent me email?” I was concerned because I thought maybe I wasn’t getting other email from other friends or family.
“Yeah, a couple.”
“huh. Do me a favor, send another to test, okay?”
We talked, briefly, because I was heading out when the phone rang.
I got home later, and there was that name and “Testing 1 2 3” in my in box.
Ah. Okay. A different email account. Okay. That makes sense.
So I wrote, “Is (different email name) your alter ego?”
“No, it’s my real name.” He immediately responded.
Okay. I’ve now “known” this guy for almost two months, we’ve talked on the phone, he told me he loved me, and all the while I’ve been calling him by a pseudonym? Okay, okay, I have one, too. But. Combined with all the other lies, and the fact that my friends and potential partners know and use my actual name, this really, really did not set well with me.
“Ah, okay, another lie in the web of deceit which is the international man of intrigue (Liar Liar).” I replied.
“Yeah, well, I’ve never liked my given name.” He wrote.
Erm. Okay. I understand that. But. Still. All the other lies. And now this? Nope. Sorry. Uh uh.
“Right. Okay. ‘Night.”
He began sending a lot of email again. And calling a lot. He’s funny and sometimes unwittingly insightful. But I began to wonder if it was even him writing the email. Because when he called he wasn’t funny or unwittingly insightful or even, well, interesting.
And that’s what lying does. It fills all the voids with doubt about what’s really true. I finally reached the point of confrontation with him regarding his lies.
I broached the topic with him. I don’t really know why. I didn’t really care and I certainly didn’t have anything invested in him. Maybe that’s why. Maybe he was becoming a science project for me. Wait. That’s wrong. I didn’t care about him, but I wasn’t clinical with him, either. I can’t really answer why I bothered with him at all. Maybe, maybe he was filling a little brother void in my life. Maybe. I’m not sure, but maybe that’s it.
Every time I would confront him with one of his lies, he’d shoot some senseless, off topic retort at me.
Finally during one phone call I said, “There’s a lot wrong with me. But. I’m not the one who filled a dating site profile with a lot of lies. I’m not the one who sought out a person who lives 5,000 miles away with a huge body of water and a lot of politics separating us yet acts as if it’s only a few blocks and work schedules standing in the way of having a date.”
His response? That mocking whiney tone so popular with 8-year-olds, “Mneh mneh mneh. It must be wonderful to be so perfect. Nothing’s ever your fault. Mneh mneh mneh. Little miss can’t be wrong. That’s why you’re single.”
I know. I hadn’t thought of that song in ages either and I’m not sure if I was more annoyed that he was behaving like a child, or that he was once again reacting instead of thinking and being very (way too) defensive and accusatory, or that infected me with that horrible ear worm.
I said nothing. I didn’t dignify any of it with a response and thought, “No more. That’s it. This is boring, stupid and a huge waste of time.” I had serious misgivings from the start and only continued writing him because he said he had the same mindset as me and since there aren’t many of us out there I thought we could offer support to each other as we tried to maneuver the thrill of dating land trying to find a like minded partner. The lies are too big, too frequent and he’s too immature for me to continue any contact with him. But since I have no expectations or emotions, I dismissed it, and him, stopped writing.
I thought, again, that was that.
A week later I got an email. “You think you’re so perfect. You’re not, you know, you’re not. There’s a lot wrong with you.”
Erm. Yeah. I know. Thanks for the reminder, though. I forgot to put it on my calendar today.
(That’s what I thought) I didn’t respond.
The next day’s email, “We could have so much. I can offer you more than anyone can. I understand you. You don’t need to be stubborn and so idealistic. You’re single because you’re too perfect. I can make you imperfect.”
Uh. Okay. Not the most enticing proposal I’ve ever had, but certainly high marks for being unconventional.
My response? “If honesty and a grip on reality qualify me as perfect, then yes, I stand guilty as accused. And if that’s why I’m single, then I’m happy to remain that way because there’s no way I’m spending my life with a liar, and not only that, a liar with a serious Peter Pan complex.”
I got an immediate reply, “I’m breaking up with you. You’re seriously fucked up. You’re the one who needs to get a grip. You’re too perfect and holier than thou. Have fun in your perfect lonely life. No man will ever want you, I was your only chance and you blew it babe.”
Breaking up with me? Huh? Did I miss something? Like an entire relationship? Like face to face contact? Like mutually sharing anything like a hobby or book or an opinion or finances or a meal? What’s to break up? Maybe, maybe a small friendship. But it was all based on lies. And yet he’s “breaking up” with me? There he was all hurt and angry and trying to hurt me the way people do when they break up an actual relationship. Liar Liar needs a lot of professional help.
Whoa. There are some seriously odd people out there. And I end up meeting most of them.
I’m sharing this with the class so that maybe someone who has a lie or two on their online dating profile or has embellished a thing or two about themselves in an effort to impress a date will think twice about it in the future. It might seem harmless or inconsequential, but most lies beget other lies, and bigger lies, and at some point the truth will be revealed.
Fortunately I’m not hurt by Liar Liar, in fact I find the whole thing funny. But. If I weren’t me, now, I might have invested some of myself in him. I might have emotions about him. I could have been very hurt and very confused and very disappointed when any or all of his lies became apparent. It does bother me that there are people “out there” lying like this. And yes, I did report him to the dating site, and yes, they are removing his profile (the credit card address will get you in the end, if you're thinking about using Liar Liar's trick for pretending to live somewhere you do not)
Of course online dating comes with buyer beware strongly implied. People lie. People have ulterior motives and personal agendas. Sometimes people are bad. And sometimes people are weird. All the more reason to have no expectations, good or bad.
