Casper: The Catfishing Ghost Part 1
So, welcome to another multi-part story. These are fun, right? I rip off all the bandages and we all do some group therapy together.
I've actually debated about posting this one or not. Why, you ask? Because no one likes looking like a complete fool. It's fun putting yourself out there, but like, really putting yourself out there when you have egg on your face?
So, it took me a while from going from ranting FB post, to fully coherent explanation. But, we're here folks. I'm excited, scared, and my tummy rumbling (so, that last one might be because of prune juice, but whatever). I will say, other than hesitating because I had egg on my face, I hesitated sharing this story for a few other reasons. First, because I never have time to write. Second, every good story has some suspense to build it up. Finally, because even looking back on it I'm still just shooketh that it happened.
So, strap yourselves in, grab some churros, and let's go on this journey of ghosts, catfish, and tacos.
I will preface this story with one piece of information about me: I am not as confident as I appear. Sure, I'm always told that I'm confident, or sassy, or snarky. For the most part, it's absolutely true. It's taken many years, but I've built that confidence up. I've built up my confidence in almost every area . . . except for the realm of dating. In the dating world, well, I'm still the fat kid in P.E. who gets picked last to play dodgeball. Except, I never get picked. And even though I've had relationships, and good, bad, and memorable dates, nothing really helps with the confidence boost in this regard. And yes, Janet, Julio, and Henry, I can do more than just group blog therapy to resolve those issues, but that'd be too easy.
However, despite the lack of confidence in myself, and my insecurities, I am a sucker for putting myself out on dates (which I think we've figured out since I have a whole dating blog). I'm a hopeless romantic. So, no matter how many ugly frogs I have to kiss, I'll keep kissing until I get that fairy tale, or my lips are covered in warts. Whatever happens first.
I first met Chris Burnham online on a website back in February 2018. And yes that's his "real" name. Or that's what he introduced himself as. I will note that for some odd reason, I always end up having weird stories or interactions with people named Chris in my life. I guess it's a thing.
First conversation, he was bubbly, sarcastic, charming, and so a corny bastard. If you don't know me, well know that that is exactly what I like. He was a class clown and had me laughing every which way. Of course, he tried to talk a big game, but don't worry, I was quick to put him in his place--which he totally loved.
We then moved from talking online to texting. A lot of the texts ended up being less PG, but those that weren't still had a spark that zipped through me.
After a few weeks, I knew the following: he was 23, he lived in Georgia, he did some technician work for a brewery, and he was smitten. Every couple days we would text back and forth for a few hours. Shooting the shit, flirting, and doing some other, not so wholesome things. Few days turned into a few weeks.
At this point, I will tell you that even though the stranger danger flags sprung up when I first started talking to him (it is the internet and all and Stranger Danger always applies), by like April, I had some deep feels towards him. Guys, I kid you not. He might have only been a 23 year old Georgian boy, but he had this 26 year old attorney sprung. I would smile when I saw his name flash up on my phone and laugh to myself at his corny-ass jokes. It felt like things were going to click with this guy.
Then, the conversation of his vacation came up...
The Journey Continues!
Javi
I've actually debated about posting this one or not. Why, you ask? Because no one likes looking like a complete fool. It's fun putting yourself out there, but like, really putting yourself out there when you have egg on your face?
So, it took me a while from going from ranting FB post, to fully coherent explanation. But, we're here folks. I'm excited, scared, and my tummy rumbling (so, that last one might be because of prune juice, but whatever). I will say, other than hesitating because I had egg on my face, I hesitated sharing this story for a few other reasons. First, because I never have time to write. Second, every good story has some suspense to build it up. Finally, because even looking back on it I'm still just shooketh that it happened.
So, strap yourselves in, grab some churros, and let's go on this journey of ghosts, catfish, and tacos.
I will preface this story with one piece of information about me: I am not as confident as I appear. Sure, I'm always told that I'm confident, or sassy, or snarky. For the most part, it's absolutely true. It's taken many years, but I've built that confidence up. I've built up my confidence in almost every area . . . except for the realm of dating. In the dating world, well, I'm still the fat kid in P.E. who gets picked last to play dodgeball. Except, I never get picked. And even though I've had relationships, and good, bad, and memorable dates, nothing really helps with the confidence boost in this regard. And yes, Janet, Julio, and Henry, I can do more than just group blog therapy to resolve those issues, but that'd be too easy.
However, despite the lack of confidence in myself, and my insecurities, I am a sucker for putting myself out on dates (which I think we've figured out since I have a whole dating blog). I'm a hopeless romantic. So, no matter how many ugly frogs I have to kiss, I'll keep kissing until I get that fairy tale, or my lips are covered in warts. Whatever happens first.
I first met Chris Burnham online on a website back in February 2018. And yes that's his "real" name. Or that's what he introduced himself as. I will note that for some odd reason, I always end up having weird stories or interactions with people named Chris in my life. I guess it's a thing.
First conversation, he was bubbly, sarcastic, charming, and so a corny bastard. If you don't know me, well know that that is exactly what I like. He was a class clown and had me laughing every which way. Of course, he tried to talk a big game, but don't worry, I was quick to put him in his place--which he totally loved.
We then moved from talking online to texting. A lot of the texts ended up being less PG, but those that weren't still had a spark that zipped through me.
After a few weeks, I knew the following: he was 23, he lived in Georgia, he did some technician work for a brewery, and he was smitten. Every couple days we would text back and forth for a few hours. Shooting the shit, flirting, and doing some other, not so wholesome things. Few days turned into a few weeks.
At this point, I will tell you that even though the stranger danger flags sprung up when I first started talking to him (it is the internet and all and Stranger Danger always applies), by like April, I had some deep feels towards him. Guys, I kid you not. He might have only been a 23 year old Georgian boy, but he had this 26 year old attorney sprung. I would smile when I saw his name flash up on my phone and laugh to myself at his corny-ass jokes. It felt like things were going to click with this guy.
Then, the conversation of his vacation came up...
The Journey Continues!
Javi
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