That time I got catfished – Tinder Stories Part 2

Swiping away on Tinder there are a few things that go through one’s head.

  1. This is horrible and I am a bad person for saying no to all these potentially lovely people because they don’t look good.
  2. I swear I have seen this profile before.
  3. Superlike the person you know and now have caught on Tinder.
  4. I swear I have seen this profile before.
  5. Unmatch all the drunk 3am matches.
  6. Freak out because you realised you got catfished.

For those of you who don’t know what catfishing is, let us turn to our old faithful Urban Dictionary:

Someone who pretends to be someone else, especially on the internet. Found on anywhere from Instagram to Twitter to chat sites, these people use fake pictures to disguise who they are. A synonym for this in some situations may be “troll” because the majority of catfish out there are simply out to troll others, while others have their own reasons for this approach. Often catfish, once discovered, are faced with people full of annoyance and frustration at being “catfishes”

– Urban Dictionary 2018

Now I never thought I would get catfished, I mean does anyone. If I was going to throw down stereotypes, I would say men get catfished, not women. But alas, its 2018 and well here is the story of the time I got catfished.

Being a tall gal that I am, 5’11 if anyone is really interested, my perpetual fear is that I potentially meet ‘The One” and he turns out to be shorter than me. Oh and if he put tomato sauce all over his food. Both things that I would just say no to even if he was perfect in all other areas.

So when a tinder profile says heights, its a factor. If I think a guy looks short in comparison to his friends in his profile, I’ll just swipe left.

You can imagine my surprise when I stumbled across Matt.

IMG_2784

I will tell you right now, that I have mastered the art of looking shorter in photos when standing next to my male counterparts because I love a good pair of tall heels. On a very serious note, all kitten heels should be burned along with pickles. Both are the spawn of the devil. But back to Matt, who I absolutely swiped right on.

A couple of days later we matched and we started talking. We got on, he had a bit of banter and he told me how he had jumped back between the UK and NZ.

He asked me if I would want to meet for a drink and I agreed. Though the evening we had agreed to meet, I had a rather busy evening ahead, your girl had triple booked herself. I had said that I would pick my best friend up from work and fought traffic for an hour to get him because no one should catch the bus on their birthday. I said that I would have drinks with Matt and just to keep it interesting I said that I would also have drinks with another Matt later in the evening.

How to date in 2018, just do it all in one evening. Like a tasting course but with shit company and lots of gin.

On my way, Matt and I were chatting about the fact that he might be finishing work late and that our drinks at 6pm might have to be postponed. Bear in mind that we had already called a rain check on drinks twice before due to other commitments.

I was about to merge onto the motorway when the guy threw me a curveball. I said that I could be potentially late because of the traffic situation and that I had an event to go to that evening (by an event I really mean, another Tinder date). Word for word, this what he said:

“I’ve got good news and bad news babe.

Good news is I can come meet up!

Bad news is I probably don’t have time for a full sit down drink 😦 

Shall I bring some beer or a wine over to yours?”

To which I responded 

“Oh I’m fine for just A drink at Mr Toms, I have a dinner party to go to at 7.30”.

I thought it was weird that he didn’t have time to meet me in a bar for a drink but was willing to bring around more than one drink to my house, to meet me. Crawling through traffic I texted him back and said we can cancel if need be as I can’t miss my event/ dinner party and that I wasn’t getting off the motorway.

So fast forward, I’ve picked my best friend up and we are heading back to the city with good time and I am applying a face of makeup as Matt texts me to tell me he was just about here.

He gets 5 brownie points because be offered to pick me up but minus 8 points for being super early.

Matt sitting at -3 brownie points even before the date.

Face applied, outfit checked and the man kept waiting, I headed out the door.

Now he wasn’t lying when he said he was tall. I hugged the dude and I totally had to go for the underarm snuggle because I would have to climb him like a tree to even attempt an over the shoulder hug.

We jumped in his car which he seemed to cram himself into like a clown into a mini and drove just down the road to a bar.

He opened the door for me (+ 2 points) and told me to grab a table before asking me what I would like to drink and headed towards the bar (+2 points).

Sitting at a high table I suddenly heard my name. Which for someone with a very uncommon name I thought I had heard Sarah. However, it was, in fact, someone asking for me.

To my disbelieve and utter amusement on waiting for my gin and tonic to arrive, standing before me was the father of the girls I nanny for.

Auckland may have 1.5 million people but this was proof that it was a small city. Awkwardly explaining to him that I was on a date and that my date was now coming back to the table I think had to do bloody introductions.

Just imagine introducing your date to your boss and not skulling your drink. If I could have melted into the floor, I would of.

Sensing my uncomfortableness my boss excused himself to the bathroom and Matt and I got chatting.

This is what I know about Matt:

  1. he was born here
  2. split his childhood between the UK and NZ
  3. went to The University of Canterbury
  4. works as a digital analyst
  5. he is a wet blanket

I switched off after 20 minutes and I was trying to figure out how many times I could stir my gin and tonic before the lime flew out.

Matt then said he was going to pop to the bathroom and when he got back he wanted to know all about me. As he left the table he asked the bartender for another round. This is the one and only time I have almost turned down gin.

He gets back and starts to ask all the normal questions; do you have any siblings, can you explain your thesis to me, what do you want to do with your degree, blah, blah blah.

People and hospitality talk about a fake laugh or smile they put on. I believe I have found my fake amusement for Tinder.

I can’t remember what we were talking about but I distinctly remember Matt telling a story about himself and saying:

my mate was like to me, ‘Greg don’t be such a dickhead'”

Greg.

Greg?

Who the fuck is Greg?

He was meant to be telling a story about himself or did I miss something.

Ive had two gins and I am not sleep deprived. I swear I just heard him say, Greg.

Either way, now I’m frowning like a child who has just been told no by their mum in the supermarket and my tinder date is finally getting the signal that its time to go.

I excused myself to the bathroom, fire off a message to the best friends about what just happened and that we were leaving the bar.

He drops me back at my friend’s apartment, tells me he had a lovely time and to have a nice evening.

Dude was nice don’t get me wrong, but nice guys finish last.

Then I was back out the door again to the next tinder date.

I can tell you right now, that was a far better improvement than what I had just experienced.

Oh and if no one has figured out yet, women who date are fucking savages.

Cue the weekend.

Matt texts me, multiple times. I just don’t reply.

My gut is telling me not to text him back.

So after my last experience, I don’t.

Cue June and I am back swiping through tinder at 3am when this came up.

IMG_3157

That looks like Matt.

With the same bio, the same age but different photos.

I wasn’t tripping balls.

I, Seren Powell-Jones got catfished.

Now you might be asking how did you not notice when you met him? Did he not look like the photos?

I couldn’t see his face when its in the outer stratosphere.

I can tell you he drives a white Rave Four like car and that he listens to rock. But the details of his face are as clear to me as Auckland harbour after it’s been raining.

So I took a screenshot, sent it to my best friends and then I super liked him.

Sadly it wasn’t an instant match and I hate drunk Seren who cleared out her Tinder.

To conclude, this is where I call on the power of the internet.

I’ve tried to reverse google him to no avail.

So, does anyone know who Matt, Greg or Jeremy is?

Or if they know anyone matching the description of the man I described?

Published by

serenpowelljones

A pretty sassy 23-year-old​ living in Auckland.

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