Sunday, July 13, 2014

You can't make this shit up. Catfished IRL


You can't make up the following story.

Having given Match.com another go (met my ex husband on Match), I was hesitant to say the least. Throughout the last few months there have been some winners - some of which will come in later blogs. And by "winners," I mean: "How does this guy actually think sending a poem about loving oneself think that will result in a date" kind of guys. Just before I go into cancel my account (it was THAT bad), I get an email from a gentleman that didn't seem as bad as the previously mentioned. Let's call him Dusty.

Dusty and I begin to converse via the messenger feature. Typical "where are you from?" and "what do you do?" questions commence. He tells me he is an EDM DJ that is "pretty famous" in the scene. He won't tell me what his DJ name is - I would have to sign a Non Disclosure Agreement... Daft Punk? Deadmau5??? Who knows- he said he wears a mask. My mind runs wild. EDM happens to be the one genre I don't know shit about (nor really care for) but this guy seems interesting. I've worked in the music industry before working publicity. He ALSO works in the music industry as a manager and booking agent! Small world, right??? Aside from the Music industry job, he also worked as a cinematographer for Travel Channel as well as a few shows on Food Network. Well travelled but apparently ready to settle down now.

The conversation continues...His profile states that he has an accent. I am a sucker for a foreign accent. As in, I swoon for anyone European. So I ask him where his accent is from. He responds with "Well, what accents do you find attractive?"

I ignore my gut feeling that this guy will just magically have the voice that I want to hear. I responded with a list: German, British, South African, Australian, etc.

Well, wouldn't you know? He has a South African/Australian accent. He was born in Florida and adopted at birth to two South African parents. Mom is/was an interior designer and his dad is some semi famous cosmetic dentist. He grew up in South Africa till age 6 then moved to Southern California. The Australian part apparently comes from the 4 months every year he spent in Australia during his high school years.

His profile also has pictures of him with dogs - Those who know me, know me as a slight crazy dog lady. My heart goes pitter patter as I find out he has 3 pups.

Ok, so at this point he asks for my phone number to continue this convo via text. He doesn't SEEM serial-killerish so I oblige.

This was on a Thursday. The following day, I was leaving for a bachelorette party out of town. He asks via text if he can call me while I pack for my trip. He does and we commence into a 4 hour conversation.

We talk about EVERYTHING and yes, the accent....swoon worthy. We talk about family, friends, frustrations that everyone we know is married or having kids (welcome to my thirties), music - turns out we have apparently been at no less than 20 of the same concerts over the last 15 years. It feels like we have so much in common - from both being adopted, music taste, job history, the works. I am talking to a guy that is the male version of me.

Dusty and I say goodnight. Throughout the next 3 days while I am out of town, we are in non-stop communication. I receive texts, pictures (He was dj-ing at some festival in Washington state), and phone calls. We are still hitting it off - I feel like I have known him for years. Its odd, yet exciting. We make plans to meet Sunday night after I return.

After a weekend of female hijinks, I spoke to Dusty and we planned our first date. He was in a car accident a few weeks prior and his car was in the shop - still to be determined if it was totaled or not, so we agreed that I would pick him up and head to dinner.

I pull up in my car - he's a few lb's heavier than the pictures projected, but not a huge deal. I mean we had so much in common and got along so great - it was something easy to see past. We get out of the car in the parking structure and go to cross a street and he reaches back to hold my hand. It felt natural. It made me feel like I was back in junior high again when holding hands was first base. We continue on our walk to the restaurant - the conversation never ceasing, the South African accent making me weak in the knees.

We had a 40 minute wait for a table at the restaurant but the time flew by. Chatting about everything from our parents, to world travels, to his mysterious career as an EDM DJ. A few times his phone would beep or ring and on more than one occasion, he would apologize that he had to answer it - always getting off the phone quickly and apologizing again. Having worked in music before, I understood its the nature of the business. You have to be available at all hours and business dealings tend to happen after 8pm.

We finally get seated and again, the conversation is easy. He reaches across the table at one point and took my hand and again, I start tingling like a little school girl. Dinner flies by. We leave the restaurant and start the walk back to the car. Standing on a street corner waiting for the light to change, he turns my head and kisses me. At this point my mind kind of goes blank. We stop and continue on our walk in silence, both with huge smiles on our faces.

We arrive at his house and he again kisses me goodnight. The kind of kisses you don't want to end. He asks to see me again the next night. My head in a haze, I agree.

Throughout the entire next day I receive texts from Dusty... "good morning beautiful", "I can't stop thinking about you", "Last night goes down as the best first date ever", "I feel like I have known you my entire life", "Can't wait to see you tonight"... You get the point.

I go over to his house and we decide to watch a movie. His house is in a slightly sketchy neighborhood and a bit torn up from his three dogs. Not a huge red flag, but if you are such a "famous DJ" I would think your house would be a bit better kept. I push that gut feeling aside. We begin to watch the movie, make out a bit, and then begin talking of our past relationships.

He was engaged a little over a year ago. He says that throughout their relationship she had some mental issues. Diagnosed with being bi polar, on a plethora of meds. He found her 3 times trying to commit suicide and the third time had her committed on a 5150. When she got out, she went and stayed with her mother for a few weeks (who lived down the street). He also divulged that he was diagnosed with having MS. During the time his fiancé was at her mom's house, he had a MS episode where he went to the ER and had to have a spinal tap. The fiancé didn't come to the hospital - as she was not feeling up to it. He ended up asking one of his female friends to come so he could have a ride home. Female friend came (who was married) and got him and they returned back to his house after midnight. They made the decision for the female friend to stay there over night and only having one bed, they both stayed in the same bed. Dusty on his back above the covers, friend below the covers fully clothed.

Fiancé comes home at 5:15am and finds them both in the same bed, she starts raging against both of them and throwing things. Ultimately picks up a piece of broken glass and begins stabbing Dusty. Crazed Fiancé actually calls the cops on him, claims domestic abuse. In the end, SHE gets charged and this is the last time that Dusty sees his fiancé.

Here is the line I am fed: "If I had to go through with that all over again 100+ times to meet you, I would."

My head is spinning, not sure if I am just hearing what I want to hear, feeling what I am feeling, or just sick of the dbags I have gone on so many bad dates with, that this guy is great in comparison. We say goodnight and I'm still on cloud nine.

This continues on for the next few days leading up to Fourth of July. It was time for the friends to meet the guy thats making me go MIA.

4th of July comes, and I head with Dusty to go pick up my two friends. First meeting goes well, although Dusty turns a little braggy... "I can just throw my black Amex Card down" or "I may need to be on the phone, so I apologize in advance if I am on my cell. I have a lot of business with my European tour coming up"... Little douchey but he was upfront about it, so we will ignore it.

We get to the party and start drinking. Everyone is having a good time. Dusty seems to be fitting in, but I continually hear different stories he's telling people in his South African accent that I haven't heard before or slightly different versions of those stories. "I was in a motorcycle accident and that's how I gained all this weight," or "I'm a pretty big deal in EDM Music - I will get you guys on the list the next LA show I play." I hear him talking to the 19 year old neighbor kid who wants to open a vaporizor shop that Dusty will "... go halves on it - I got $30k to spend." The day ends and we go home. He has been on his phone and my computer constantly checking his social media, email, soundcloud to see how many more "likes" his mix got. And by constantly, I mean WON'T PUT THE PHONE DOWN. I am starting to get irritated and come out of the cloud of my new South African boyfriend.

After the weekend ends and I get the recap from my friends, I know in my gut something is not right with all this. I somewhat stop responding to his texts. He then informs me his credit card was stolen at the party we were at and do I think one of my friends would take it? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!? Someone apparently had charged over $5,000 dollars since that night.

AND THEN IT GETS WEIRD:

So let alone he has accused my friends of this theft - he says that his card is tied to his other credit card and now there is a hold on his account as well as its tied to his bank account (I have never heard of this happening with Capital one) so he has no way to access cash. Also during all this his "best mate" on the East Coast was in a car accident and he really needs to get out there to see him. He says he's going to have to ask his dad to loan him money to go but he can't get ahold of him or his mom. His mom was apparently on a month long vacation in France where his dad was going to go meet her then they were going to Dubai for a Dental conference so perhaps thats why he couldn't get ahold of them. I get the feeling he in a round about way is asking me for money. I nip that in the bud and let him know that I am tapped out. He hurtfully states: "I would have paid you back on Monday but thanks anyways."

I have 24 hours of texts and call silence from Dusty and then it starts again. "My boy died last night from his injuries. My head is in a really dark place." I respond with, "I am really sorry for what you are going through. Were you able to get ahold of your dad to help you out?"

Dusty: "He's gone MIA. I talked to his secretary and he is on a 2 week scuba diving trip"
Me: "Did you try skyping with your mom?" (note the day before he told me he does this everyday)
Dusty: "she must be getting really shitty reception. I think she's in Bora Bora with my dad for their 35th wedding anniversary and there is no reception there."
Me: "Gotcha"

The next day, I go to get my hair done at a salon in my usual spot, which is also Dusty's hometown. I am chatting with my hairstylist - whom I have known since high school and I begin to tell her this story. I let her know that he said his dad was a pretty notable cosmetic dentist in the area. She asks his name. I tell her and her face almost goes white.

"His wife is sitting 3 chairs away from you right now".

What. The. Fuck.

Dusty had shown me a picture of her a few days before and sure as shit, its her. You know, the one that is in Bora Bora right now. That one.

Almost as if he was in the room, Dusty text me. "Hi beautiful- hows your day going?"

Now my face was white and I am shaking as I look up and his mom is now facing me getting her hair blown dry.

I wait till she has left and the mom's hairstylist comes over. Turns out he knows Dusty's family quite well. Actually has been cutting all the families hair, including Dusty's for years. So well that Dusty has even stayed at his house for a few weeks.

My hairstylist asks the other hairstylist "So I have to know, does Dusty have an accent?"

"If you count Orange County as an accent".

For the last two weeks this guy has been speaking in a South African/Australian-ish accent to me. In hindsight, there may have been a few warning signs that I pushed aside. One time he was on the phone with a friend and I could have sworn the accent faded into an "American" accent. I asked him about it and he said he can tone it down when need be for people to better understand him. Another time, he was about to call his dad and stepped outside to go have the call out of earshot. All these stories aren't lining up. I also asked the hairstylist what Dusty did for a living - if he really worked for Travel CHannel/Food Network or was a DJ.

"If he did - then I work for NASA".

I go home and immediately blocked his number. Shaken and creeped the fuck out.

But nothing a glass of wine and a little playful Tindering didn't cure.

And thats the story of how I got Catfished in real life.

XOXO,

-V


1 comment:

  1. This story is crazy! Hopefully you're safe and never deal with that again.

    ReplyDelete