Go ahead: call me shallow.
That’s fine. I really don’t mind. I’m comfortable enough with who I am to admit that I am, to a degree, shallow. We all are. Most people just don’t admit it. Sure, we like to believe that personality counts for everything, but let’s face the truth here: personality counts most in the long run, but for that initial, immediate attraction, physicality plays an important role.
That’s not shallow. That’s just life.
So, armed with that, I followed a friend’s lead and joined a dating website earlier this year. I had no real intention of actually following through with any dates, but I thought, at worst, it would be interesting to see how this internet dating works while allowing it to stroke my ego.
I didn’t anticipate almost immediately finding someone I was attracted to, both in terms of looks and personality. I sent a message, received a relatively prompt response, and the virtual courtship began. We soon agreed to meet for a casual meal/getting-to-know-you meeting.
Perhaps my shallowness caused me to get in over my head.
I guess the easiest way to say what happened is that the woman didn’t look like she did in the pics she has posted.
Well, that’s not entirely true. The actual easiest way to say what happened to is to say she was fat. Not curvy. Not heavy. Not a few extra pounds. No, this was just obesity at its best. Or worst, I guess, depending on your vantage point.
A friend asked me just how big she was. This is the best way I could describe it: You know that scene in Willy Wonka when Violet Beauregarde turns into a blueberry? Well, it’s like that, only if someone had turned her into a giant whiteberry with a very bad dye job. She literally had trouble getting in and out of my vehicle, finding herself hoisting her not unsubstantial self up and down the seat. The move left her out of breath. It kind of tired me, too.
I finished the date, thinking I could at least have some good food (but mostly knowing I had picked her up and taken her to the restaurant; there was no way she was walking home). At one point, no joke, I honestly considered the possibility she had on a fat suit and I was being filmed for something. I thought, “Man, I will look good on this TV special. This guy here isn’t a jerk, that’s for sure.”
Toward the end of the date, I had a Keyser Soze moment from The Usual Suspects, piecing together things she had previously said and then realizing that she had been dancing around the weight issue. During our first phone conversation, she made the following statement: “I meet a lot of guys, both in real life and online. I get asked out a lot. I don’t get a lot of second dates, though.”
At the time, she suggested it might be because of her brains, saying many guys can’t handle dating a smart woman. This could be the case. Or, and I’m just throwing out ideas here, it could be because you look like you ate the Burger King, the Dairy Queen and the rest of the whole royal fucking family of fast food. I guess it could go either way.
Look, I realize this sound awful, but it’s not my intention. I don’t care if you’re tall, short, fat, thin, whatever. You are who you are, and I say embrace yourself. What does bother me, though, is being misleading. This woman knows she has extra pounds. That’s cool. She should have posted recent pics showing her current look, though. Otherwise, she cannot be disappointed when guys turn out to be somewhat shocked by her unexpected weight gain.
By posting only the old, pre-weight gain pictures, she has acknowledged that she is not comfortable with her current self. Why would anyone want to date someone who lacks self-confidence? She’s employing a bait-and-switch tactic, hoping that guys will look past her weight and take her for her personality.
Am I shallow? Yeah, I guess I kind of am.
But, then again, she’s a liar.
I think that makes us about even.