Truth in advertising

After a lovely (well-timed) week at my family cottage camp sans electricity, I was super excited to meet a gentleman I started talking to on Tinder just before I left. I normally try to keep my expectations in check, but here was a fellow weirdo with a slightly off sense of humour and a dinosaur tattoo. My tits were decidedly not calm (normally I have one calm tit and one party tit, but neither Derecha nor Izquierda could contain their pre-date excitement). My friend Goldie also expressed her enthusiasm about how ‘good on paper’ this seemed. However, since it made the blog, you know where this is going.

We met at the subway at the appointed time, and had he not found me I don’t know I would’ve recognized him. While the pictures were his (unlike this dickweed), they were definitely not what I would call accurate. I got over my initial ‘Huh?’ reaction, and we proceeded to the bar where I spent the whole time berating myself for being a superficial asshole. ‘We had a lovely conversation before meeting, and he’s the same person,’ I told myself. ‘Just don’t be a dick and get over it.’ I couldn’t though, and the more I think about it, the more I think he was kind of the jerk in this scenario.

Here’s the thing: I know I’m not exactly conforming to typical beauty standards (curvy chicks with short purple hair aren’t stomping the runways this season). With that in mind, I endeavour to have a variety of recent, accurate pictures that show who I am in this body at this moment. My hair changes more often than some people’s underwear and my weight has fluctuated in both directions, and I am not trying to fool anyone. I’m already more than aware of what I look like, I want someone who likes it as much as I do. Not into what I’m selling? That’s fine. I would rather be honest and meet someone who is. Sure, I could probably get a lot of attention using my most flattering pictures from university. But I don’t, because that would be fucking dishonest.

That’s the real issue here. Just be fucking real about who you are. If you feel the need to hide that, it shows a lack of comfort with who you are. Is that someone I really want to date? I think not. Would I have been into him had he not been misleading? I don’t know, but at least I would’ve had the chance. Instead I left with two very disappointed (albeit calm) tits.


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