Tag Archives: catfished

Guest Post Wednesday: That Fat Girl and the Online Dating World by Dana R. Griffin

tumblr_lj3b4qh5H71qhqgp8o1_400_largeAfter a divorce and then a long-term relationship that ended because: a) I got my life together; b) he was  jealous of that; and c) he had no idea who Nelson Mandela was…I unleashed myself onto the online dating world.

My point of entry was OKCupid. My life is crazy busy, and online seemed to be the best option for me. My best friend was also on “the Cupid”  and seemed to have success there, so I thought what the heck. The first person I contacted who contacted me back was great guy who just happened to have finalized his divorce one month before he met me.

After about two years of trying to feel out if this man was ever going to be ready (honestly if they want to be with you, they will and you don’t have to figure it out; men are pretty basic that way).  Needless to say, he was not ready for what I was looking for–an eventual life partner. So I went back to “the Cupid” to see who else was out there…or more accurately, I decided to passively online date. I wasn’t going to look for anyone; if someone wanted to contact me, I would go from there. But I really didn’t have time to waste looking through countless profiles, because, well, I’m busy!

One day a nice guy contacted me and he seemed OK. [Editor’s Note/Question: Pun intended?] He had two kids from a previous marriage. Had been divorced for my minimum amount of time. (About four years seems, in my experience, is an optimal time to heal…and sleep with enough people to get it out of their system so that they’re ready for an actual relationship.) [Editor’s Note: Good. To. Know. Thank you.]

We texted and talked for a couple of weeks before we actually met. We met somewhere close to my house for breakfast because he worked nights, and I had to work that day, and it was the only way to fit it into both our schedules. Unconventional perhaps, but if you can’t be adaptable in dating, you can’t be adaptable with a life partner so why even bother.

Several things were red flags to me when we met.  He felt the need to kiss me as a hello. I’m NOT a PDA girl with someone I don’t know. I am barely PDA with men I do know (at least at that point in my life…but that’s another story). Throughout the breakfast, he was trying to hold my hand before our food arrived. I told him that PDA just wasn’t me and he really needed to stop. Once that ended, I noticed something else. Something I just couldn’t believe.

He had no teeth.

When I say he had no teeth I mean NO teeth–not a ONE.

I couldn’t believe it. I almost couldn’t handle it. My parents spent thousands of dollars on making sure that, not only did I have teeth, but that they were perfectly straight. This man. This 35-year-old man had not one tooth in his head. It’s not like he was a professional hockey player or a boxer or something where he might have gotten them knocked out and then replaced with fake teeth. I could handle fake teeth, but gums? Just gums? Oh hell no.

After the date ended, he tried to kiss me some more. I just couldn’t get the image of his gums out of my head.

I called my best friend and shared my story with him. His reply was not what I expected: “I hope someone could love old, fat, bald me, but if this isn’t something you can get past, then you should put this guy out of his misery.” My response to him was, “Well at least you have teeth.”

That weekend I was headed to St. Louis for a wedding and to visit with my family who I hadn’t seen in years, and I told Mr. Gums I was going to be busy.

The weekend was filled with texts and calls that were above and beyond normal dating etiquette. So not only was this guy toothless, but he was obsessive and, well, annoying. I was going to let him down easy, but changed my mind and went for blunt and to the point. I texted him: This isn’t going work, sorry. I hope you find what you are looking for. 

A little over a month later, I met the man I am with now. In our early conversations, I said to him, “You seem perfect, but I have to know…do you have all of your teeth?” He laughed and said, “Yes. Why?” I told him, and we’ve lived happily ever after.

Now I actually enjoy PDA.

Dana is a 43-year-old, white, single mom of a biracial 13-year-old daughter. She started a new career three years ago in video production and she’s also an online radio co-host. Her background includes music, musical theater, and improv. She studied at The Second City and took a graduate class with Adam McKay at Piven Theater workshop. Name dropper? Maybe a little. For more on That Fat Girl Media, click here

[Final Editor’s Note: I pretty much fell into a deep girl crush upon meeting Dana. Can we just talk about how she called men basic? #basicboy Happened here first, folks. And in lieu of pumpkin spice lattes, Basic Boys carry Lifetime Fitness cards.]


Lies That Online Dating Told Me

If you’ve ever seen any commercials for online dating, then you’re familiar with the handsome, well-dressed, young professional make the claim that he wants to try it because he’s “really busy” and “just doesn’t have time” for dating. And Match or Farmers Only* just makes it so much easier to fit dating in a super busy/handsome/well dressed schedule.

And if you’ve ever tried online dating, you know that this is one, fat, effing lie.

Online dating is like a part-time job. A part-time job that pays largely in disappointing dates. (“At least you get free drinks!” non-single friends will say. I just pat them on the hand. How cute.)

While I used to be embarrassed about the stigma of online dating, I’ve completely embraced it as an acceptable way to meet someone. Or to at least have the best story at the next cocktail party. Not to mention, it totally takes the pressure off putting on make up before I go to the grocery store because I just might bump into a cute guy who not only shares my love for baby spinach, but wants to take me out to dinner to discuss it.

In fact, I’ve become so accustomed to online dating, that when a guy does approach at a bar, I’m completely thrown off. For example, the other night the fabulous CBN ladies and I enjoyed the now infamous Movie Monday at ROOF on the Wit. (Btw: While there is a movie, it’s totally up to you if you want to watch it. Good luck trying to get me to pay attention to 21 Jump Street while there’s endless liquor and conversation about grilled cheese with food bloggers.) And as we were chatting, a guy approached our table and began conversation, seemingly because he knew someone. When I inquired about the connection, they looked at me blankly. Oh. He was hitting on her. How retro.

While online dating is time consuming, I’ve found that the bar pick up scene is starting to dwindle. Or maybe I’m just wearing heels more frequently. (Why are men intimidated by tall women? It just shows we have confidence. And could kick your ass. In heels.)

After my last date (re: My Date With a Hipster), I’ve decided to just start eliminating assholes from the get-go. Which, I now realize, has turned me into one myself….ok, right, so not much has changed. Please see following Tinder conversations for proof:**

Exhibit A
  • Tinder Guy #892: Yo! East Bank Club party was fun. Cougs were out in packs hunting. Stopped by the mid and called it a night. Last night was Boundry Lumen then the Mid. In the burbs now. What did you do. 
  • Me: I need a translator for half of that shit. Mid what? Way? Like the airport?
  • Tind #892: It’s some stupid night club on Halstead and Lake. Cougars are single older ladies that go after younger men. 

A. If you live in Chicago, you know what the East Bank Club is. I can only assume that the name dropping of those other places indicates that they are on the same level of dbag and washed up Abercrombie models as EBC. I was just too lazy to Google the Mid, Boundry or Lumen. (Still not sure if Boundry Lumen is one place or if Boundry is incorrectly spelled, like Halstead.)
B. Thanks for the heads up on the cougs definition. I suppose adding the “ar” would’ve been too taxing.
C. No, I will not go out with you.

Exhibit B
  • Tinder Guy #923: What’s the weirdest question you been asked on here?
  • Me: Um, that one.
  • Tind #923: Hahaha. [I wasn’t kidding.] Do you live in the burbs or city?
  • Me: Does anything about me suggest suburbs, 923?
  • Tind #923: No, but you never know….I live in the burbs. 
  • Me: Uh oh. 
  • #923: Uh oh? [Great. Not only does he live in the suburbs, but he also doesn’t see the problem with it.] Yeah, I’m out in [name of suburb]. I work for [name of university].
  • Me: Oh nice. [hoping I’d just landed a professor] I’m out that way from time to time. What department?
  • #923: Residential Living. We should grab a drink when you’re out here.
  • Me: [silence. forever.]

A. Nope, don’t think I’m going to hit up the dorms in the suburbs and crack a Natty Light with you. Even if I’ve hit rock bottom. Even if I’ve hit a Bynes/Bieber/Lohan rock bottom rolled into one messy burrito. Because then I’ll just seek my burrito treatment in seclusion like a respectable person. And then blog about it.
B. How did a suburbs guy weasel his way into my Tinder feed when it’s set at a 4-mile maximum radius? I feel catfished. (That hyperlink was for the Baby Boomers who read my blog. You’re welcome, Dad.)

This is the problem with even simple online dating, like Tinder, which doesn’t even require reading. Just classic, shallow, snap judgement, but even that becomes time consuming because I find myself in mind numbing conversations about the suburbs or fishing. (Maybe the fishing guy got lost and thought he was on Farmers Only.)

But, like the dedicated researcher I am, I’m going to continue in my quest for the perfect online dating system. One, preferably, that finds me that 6’6″, Australian-born, sarcastic and soulful man that I know is out there. Just waiting. Behind his computer.

Yeah, nevermind. He sounds like a creep.

*Does anyone else want to try this out of sheer curiosity? Their slogan is “City folks just don’t get it!” I’m dying to know what I don’t get. Aside from milking cows and anything that involves getting up before 8 a.m.

**Upon going to my phone to pull up said conversations, I got distracted and Tindered for a good 12 minutes. Or 32. This thing is like online dating crack.