Chapter 30: Catfished, Part I – The Area Manager and The Size King

Where’s Nev when you need him?

The time has come for a new series, one that I’ll be calling “Catfished,” that is dedicated to all of the men who are not who they say they are – in some way or another – and that don’t fit into One Hit Blunders because I never even went on a date with them.

These are men who have ghosted me or just avoided actually meeting me, so even if they are who they say they are, I have to assume that they’re lying and that they catfished me which is why we never actually met or why they disappeared. 

By the way, before I go on, I’ve come to the conclusion that The Boyfriend was a major catfish.  To be fair, I’ve known that for a while but was still willing to meet and call him out in person (publicly)… but we never even got there. I thought we were finally getting somewhere in terms of actually meeting, and then he got weird on me again! I kept trying to video call him and he wouldn’t answer, and one time I asked for him to send me a photo of his face and he kept making up excuses. Finally, I told him that he was like Santa Claus and he asked me why and I said because I’ve never seen him so I have to just tell myself to believe that he’s real. He just laughed and that was the last time we spoke.

Anywho, in this chapter you get to meet two catfishing fellows – The Area Manager and The Size King. Again, one is set in Florida, and the other in Boston so you get a two-state experience again. Ready? Let’s go.


Back when my parents were helping me swipe on Bumble, I ended up matching with a guy I’ll call Max. He was very cute and had beautiful blueish green eyes, a nice smile, and was tall. He also didn’t look American and as you know I’m very into that, so we got to talking right away. 

Max is an area manager for Amazon, and he actually lives in Miami, but his family lives in the Sarasota area and he’s actually been actively looking to move to Bradenton and transfer his role to there, which is why he was looking in that area, too. 

We seemed to hit it off immediately. He even called me pretty early on just to say hi, which as you know I’m a sucker for a guy who likes phone calls, and I liked his voice. I found out that his name isn’t actually Max, his family is Ukrainian but he chose the name Max because he thought it was a good, strong name, and nobody could ever pronounce his Ukrainian name so he changed it. Ironically, it’s the same first name as The Semi-Date, so I actually did know how to pronounce it, but he told me just to call him Max.

We flirted, we talked, and he seemed like a decent guy! He very much had his shit together from what I could tell, he was funny, invested in our conversations, and kept begging me to not move back to Boston because he thought I was so “perfect” he would be devastated if I went back to Boston before we met. I told him that I’d make sure we met before then.

After a couple weeks of talking, he told me he’d be in town for the weekend and asked me if I wanted to go to the beach with him. Beaches were open by then, so I figured since it was outdoors that was probably safer, and it could be fun. I agreed, thinking that would be a fun first date, and I even bought a new bathing suit for it. 

When the day came, I told him to let me know when he woke up and to let me know what time he wanted to meet. And I never heard from him. All. Day. Long. I had already cleared my very busy schedule of baking, job hunting, and hanging out with my 3-year old niece for the day so I was kind of annoyed, but after a bit of waiting I just decided to call it a loss and move on with my day.

Finally, later that day he told me that his family had surprised him with a last-minute trip to Marco Island for his birthday. I thought that was sweet, so I went with it, and he apologized for leaving me hanging and promised to make it up to me the next time he was in town.

I think I had something going on the following weekend, so we didn’t make plans then, but we kept talking. This whole time, anytime he was in town but too busy for the beach or anything, he’d ask me if I wanted to meet somewhere and just make out in his car for a bit. Uh, no. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The next weekend, Max was in town again so we made tentative plans to finally meet up and go to the beach. Again, I told him to tell me what time he wanted to meet up and he said he’d call me after the gym. He didn’t. 

At this point, I was kind of worried that he might be dead or something, so I decided to Google him and make sure that he was who he said he was. At first, when I was just searching for his Snapchat name (I find that a lot of people use the same username for a LOT of different accounts) I was finding some weird Ukrainian or Russian forums, I don’t even know, I think some of it was very weird porn? I clicked out really fast. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was him, though, considering he did tell me that his biggest fetish is peeing on a girl. Don’t ask me how I meet these people because I don’t know either.

The thing is that his last name is really weird and even though one time I’d asked him to spell it out for me on the phone, I think I must’ve written it down incorrectly because I was still struggling to find him. Finally, I had a breakthrough and I found him. That is, I found his mugshot from when he was arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct.

So after that, I figured I’d cut my losses and delete him. I blocked him on Snapchat and carried on with my life but then, a bit later, I randomly get a WhatsApp message from him showing me the houses he’s looking at in Bradenton and saying that he wanted me to help decorate (I do love decorating) and I called him out on ditching me twice at that point and told him that I’d blocked him on Snapchat because of it, which he thought was funny.

Really though, Max just seemed sad that he never got to see me in my new bathing suit, which I mean I don’t blame him – I looked great in it – but also that’s not really what I’m looking for at this point and I still wasn’t into his car makeouts idea, so I just finished the conversation, it fizzled out, and I ended up back in Boston not too long after – still having no idea what he really liked look outside of the photos he’d sent me. Which leads me to my next story.


Being back in Boston, but still having most of the city under strict guidelines due to you-know-what, I decided to get back on Bumble and Tinder just to keep myself entertained. Since I wasn’t having any luck on EHarmony, (side note, they finally let me delete my account after I reported the guy who went and stalked me on LinkedIn – and now on Instagram AND Facebook, too – and gave me a partial refund), but I wanted to feel kind of social at least, so I figured trying them again couldn’t hurt. 

There was one profile of a guy, Don, who was very tall, in good shape, was wearing a suit, and seemed like he had a good sense of humor, so I swiped right. The only thing on his profile that gave me pause was where he asked, “Where my size queens at?” I’ve never heard that phrase, but I figured it had something to do with him liking girls who are “thicc” since that’s a thing, and I mean I’m considered “slim thicc” from what the young and hip kids have told me, so I figured that would suffice.

Don and I matched and got to chatting. After a bit of back and forth, he asked me if I’d read his profile. I said yes, and he said, “So you’re into that?” 

I had no clue what he was talking about, so I asked him to clarify. He asked me if I was a size queen. I told him I had no idea what that meant, but I thought it was about being thicc. He said no, that’s not what it means. 

Now, I was terrified at what I’d potentially gotten myself into so before he even said anything else I searched Urban Dictionary and found out that, according to them, a size queen is, “A person who will only accept larger than average penises in sexual partners.” About the same time that I read this, Don responded to me himself that that is what a size queen is. 

Well, now I was too deep into this conversation to back out, and very curious, so I asked him if that was the case with him and he said yes. He asked if I was into that, and I admitted that I wouldn’t know from experience, but I’m always up to try new things. 

Obviously, I was super curious as to how big he was but I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so I didn’t ask. But then, he offered to show me. I told him only if he was comfortable, because I was intrigued, but didn’t want him to do anything he didn’t want to. He said he was happy to show me, so I gave him my Google voice number because he didn’t have Snapchat.

After our introductions over text, he asked me if I liked Trulys, and I said yes, and then he sent the picture. It was of his dick, obviously, held next to a can of Truly hard seltzer – I’m not even kidding. And while the first thing I noticed was that he’s not circumcised, I did realize after that that, yeah, it was very big. 

Once he was assured that he hadn’t totally scared me off (hey, I’m human) he offered to send more and I didn’t really answer because really one is enough, but he did want to see my tattoos so I sent him a photo (clothed) where he could see my tattoos. He did ask me for nudes at one point, but I told him I don’t do that with people I don’t know and that for now clothed was the only way he was getting photos of me, and he said that was fine.

Then Don just started sending me more dick pics. First was just it poking out of his pants, and from that angle I was kind of scared honestly, and then the next one – I kid you not – was him holding it next to a can of Rustoleum. They were the same size. I will never be able to look at Rustoleum the same ever again. But also, do you think he just walks around his house finding things to compare his dick to, or does he have a few go-tos that he just always has on hand? 

We flirted a lot, and besides the size thing he actually seemed funny and nice and smart, so I felt comfortable enough to consider planning a date with him. But when I asked him when we were going to meet and act on our flirtation and everything, he said that was a good question and asked when I was free. I told him, and he didn’t respond. 

After a few hours, I sent the upside down smiling face emoji because that’s kind of my thing when I’m trying to tell a guy, “Hey, you’re ignoring me but instead of calling you out on it I’m just going to send you an emoji.” Still nothing. The next morning, I realized that he had unmatched me on Tinder. 

When this happens, I assume one of three things – 1), they got back together with their ex or met someone else and are no longer looking, 2), they’re intimidated by my assertiveness/aggressive nature and don’t want to talk anymore, or 3), they’re a catfish and now that they got what they wanted from the conversation, he’s ready to move on. With Don, I’m betting option three.


Stay tuned because I’m sure I’ll have more Catfished stories soon, and next week, we’re back to our regularly scheduled program of guys I’ve been out with recently! You’ll be meeting my latest One-But Blunder, The Joker. Have a great week!

Chapter 2: The Creepy Catfish

In college, I really didn’t date much. Most of my dates to sorority semis and formals were friends, or friends of friends, so except for the time that I kind of stole my friend’s formal date and asked him out (with her permission!), I didn’t date. That is, until my senior year.

When I got back from my College Program and was back in Boston for my final semester, I was pretty hung up on Christian (don’t judge me) and having some serious symptoms of Disney-withdrawal. Meanwhile, he decided to get back together with one of the girlfriends he’d dated when he was a teen, telling me that he was only with her because he missed me so much, he had to be with someone else to ease the pain of me not being there… I was an idiot, I know. So to get over him and how much I missed Disney, I thought dating a bit would help me, too.

Have you ever heard of the app Happn? It’s an app where basically, you can match with and chat with people that you’ve already crossed paths with – at the coffee shop, waiting for the T, in the store, etc. A friend of mine had something to do with it so I downloaded it out of support, and I matched with this guy. We’ll call him Adam.

Adam looked cute. He was smart, looked like he was tall and in pretty good shape, and just generally seemed nice from his profile. We chatted for a couple of days on the app, then he asked for my number. So we texted for a bit, and then spoke on the phone a few times (yes, I am that person who likes to talk on the phone). He kept telling me how pretty I sounded and how cute my voice is, and asked me out. I told him I wanted to go bowling, and he said that would be great. Fun fact for any guy who wants to date me – bowling will ALWAYS be my favorite and #1 choice for a first date activity! 

The night of our date comes, and he calls me 30 minutes before we’re supposed to meet to tell me he’s going to be late. Like, two hours late, because he decided to go visit a friend that afternoon and lost track of time. Okay, fine. Then, he tells me that actually, he doesn’t want to go bowling, he thinks we should just get hot chocolate. Okay? I tell him I’ll meet him at Max Brenner, which if you don’t know, is like a chocolate restaurant/bar in Boston that has amazing hot chocolate and desserts. 

Photo by Fallon Michael on Pexels.com

I show up to meet him – he’s still a few minutes late – and let’s just say, I was cat-fished. HARD. He wasn’t nearly as tall as his photos made him look – which wouldn’t have bothered me if he didn’t lie about it. He was also about 20 pounds heavier than his photos, had awful skin, and really bad teeth. Literally none of this was shown in the photos – I don’t consider myself a vain person, and I value personality over looks, but if you’re going to lie about your appearance THAT much, I’m going to be a little irked . But, being the polite person I am, I figure I’d give him a chance. The real kicker is that then he actually had the audacity to say to me that he was so glad I actually looked like my photos because he would have been really mad if I didn’t, and if I wasn’t hot as my pictures made me look he probably would’ve left. Okie dokie.

So then, he tells me that he doesn’t want to go to Max Brenner’s. “Let’s just go to Starbucks,” he says. I’m sorry, WHAT? I have enough Starbucks gift cards to last me a year, I did not need him to buy me a $5 hot chocolate that I wouldn’t even like (Starbucks makes disgusting hot cocoa, comment if you agree). But there we are, at a Starbucks, with him talking over me and interrupting me, and me just trying to get this date over with. He brought up no less than 10 times that he works at Harvard, but he probably couldn’t have even told you what I was in school for.

While on a walk back to my apartment, he tries to hold my hand. I say no, because I’m not comfortable with that when I don’t know him well at all. For some reason, he thinks that because I don’t want to hold hands, backing me against a tree is totally okay. I finally get him to keep moving, and we end up at my apartment so I bring him inside to the lobby area for a bit, figuring if I need to I can make a quick escape. I don’t remember all the details of the conversation, but I do remember him asking me why I didn’t want to hold hands and me saying that I just wanted to take things slow, so he told me if I wasn’t going to put out, he could walk across the street to any bar and pick up any girl he wants. He then proceeds to tell me about how when he goes out with the other Harvard guys, they compete to see how many girls’ numbers they can get and he always wins. I asked if he ever actually called the girls and he said no. When I told him how rude that was and how hurtful that could be to a girl, he laughed.

But my favorite part of all this was when I opened up about Christian, and how that was all very recent and part of why I was hesitant to go crazy with physical stuff, and he tells me, “You’re pretty, but honestly, no guy is going to want to be with you if you’re like this with physical stuff on the first date. You’re pretty fucked up, I don’t think anyone is ever going to love you.” 

Somehow, my idiot self though that despite this absolutely asshole-ish comment, it would be okay to let him use my bathroom. Bad idea. He used the bathroom and then he wouldn’t leave. I kept asking him to go, and he wouldn’t budge. He more or less told me in so many words that I couldn’t stop him from doing anything he wanted (he was still bigger than me), so when he went to hug me, I let him all while taking inventory of what items I could use as a weapon, and which of my knives would be the easiest and fastest to get to. Finally, my fake-playing nice got him to agree to leave. 

On his way out, he texts me asking what my problem is because he could tell I wasn’t happy. I told him I didn’t appreciate the way he talked to me, or about women in general, and that I didn’t think we hit it off. After acting like a little bitch for a minute, he shut up. Meanwhile, I was sleeping with a knife next to bed after calling Christian crying three times about how awful the date was. So much for trying to get over him, right?

Because guys like this ALWAYS have to make a reappearance, like the serial killer at the end of a slasher film, about a year or two later, I randomly got a text from a new number saying, “Hey it’s Adam from Harvard, remember me?” First of all, working at Harvard is not a personality trait like he seems to think it is, but that’s not what I said in my reply. Instead, I responded, “Hey! Yeah, I think I remember you. You’re the self-absorbed, pompous asshole who told me I was too fucked up to be loved, right?” And then blocked him. 

Moral of the story, don’t use Happn — you never know what kind of creep you’re going to meet. Fortunately, I’m an eternal optimist so after some time to process everything that happened, I decided that because I didn’t date much in college, this was just all of the bad dates I was supposed to have by this point in one night… right?