And Another One Down

Dearest Rachel –

Yep; another one bites the dust. Thanks to Logan’s image lookup technique, I have spotted a problem with Aileen. Shortly after she was allegedly assigned to the San Diego naval base, she sent me a picture purporting to be of herself in front of her barracks, wearing what she claimed to be her old fatigues (and proud that she could still wear them)

It shouldn’t take you long to notice something suspicious about these photographs; namely, that they’re the same darn picture, just with ‘her’ head photoshopped atop the one she sent me. It’s not a particularly perfect job, either –you can see that the shadows on her face don’t line up properly like they do in the original – but apart from a slight ‘something seems off about this photo’ impression, there wasn’t much I could say about it, until I found the original, thanks to Logan.

And now that I think about it, she’s on a naval base, wearing army fatigues? She’d never get away with that, given the interservice rivalries.

To be honest, I really hadn’t intended to confront her about this; it was just something to keep in my back pocket, just in case things went sour. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d ever bothered to ask me to send her money like so many of the others had. Yes, I’ve never been particularly thrilled about the fact that she lives a nearly two hour drive away. Meanwhile, Lars’ amusement at her flight to San Diego exactly at the same time as I informed her that I would be coming up to the area (not to meet up with her, mind you, but to stop by the camp on business) was predicated on its suspicious nature. Add to that, the fact that she refers to me as ‘handsome’ in at least every other text she sends to me, and the fact that those texts often interrupt something I’d rather be doing then talking to her, and you can see that this might give me an excuse to set her aside unilaterally, should I get tired of dealing with her. And, upon consideration, if dealing with her (or any other potential mate) becomes more of a chore than something to look forward to, that should tell me something right there. But it never seemed fair to walk away from someone I’d been talking to.

Until now. Yes, barely a day after finding the match to this photograph, Aileen contacts me, ostensibly to just catch up, because it’s been a day or two since we last talked. Which is quite true enough; even though I’m staying home from the ‘office’ this week, I’m keeping busy what with Kevin being in town to catch up with. At first, the conversation is fairly standard; the usual greetings, how’re you doing, how’s work, and all that. But then, she drops the fact that she’s taken the day or two off, because it’s her birthday, and her elder daughter (who’s studying at university in the SoCal area) will be dropping by to visit.

Well, okay. I offer her my congratulations, and wish her the best. After all, everybody has a birthday at some point in the year, and after a month or so of chatting, it wouldn’t be too far out of the realm of possibility that hers might come up (approximately 1 in 12 at this point, and falling every day). I have a slight suspicion as to what’s coming, but I hope I’m wrong about it.

I’m not, unfortunately.

“I will need Apple gift card for that funs games online today with my friends. I’m hoping to get one later in the day if possible for me .”

Yes, that’s the text, verbatim, complete with spelling errors and odd spacing (you’re not the only one bothered by such stuff online, I should mention). Anyway, although it doesn’t explicitly ask me to get her this for her birthday, the implication is quite clear; she wants me to send her money via this untraceable method.

I’m not that stupid. After warning her not to make me do this to her on her birthday, I send her both those pictures. For a moment, she coos over the fact that I’ve kept a photo she sent me, before I point out the fact that the other photo isn’t of her – and for that matter, most of her photo isn’t of her.

The subsequent walls of text, attempting an explanation and protesting that she is in fact real, might be amusing were I willing to slog through them, but at this point, I’m in no mood to pay her any mind. She is still insisting that her photo is real, and was taken by surprise by her friends there on the base (which, considering that she’d just gotten there, would she have any yet?). So much of this doesn’t add up anymore. At least it gives me an excuse to cut her off; while I hate to say it of anyone, I was starting to get annoyed with her already, so there’s nothing much lost here.

I had originally thought to title this letter “Another Good Lie,” based on that old mark heard song. It was a song that grew close to my heart during the last few years I was struggling to get through each work day, with the line about how it was all “coming down on your daddy’s soul / till it made him old” really resonating with me. I decided against it, because, while I was growing weary of Eileen and her protestations (not to mention her calling me ‘handsome’ all the time – I know better, and am disdainful of such blatant dishonesty), it wasn’t such an oppressive thing as the everyday trip to and from work.

Then again…

There’s something to be said about how the verses describe all manner of promises being made to the singer/narrator; it’s a fairly accurate summation of what so many of these alleged girls tell me. Add to that the fact that she kept this up for well over a month, and I suppose she gets credit for at least a passable façade, even while I will insist that there’s no such thing, really, as a ‘good’ lie.

When I relayed the story to Erin last night, she told me that she generally found my adventures in online dating to be rather cringey. I hope that it’s not my behavior that provoke that reaction; while I may at first I’ve been taking everybody at face value, I’d like to think I wised up pretty quickly, and never really followed anybody like a lovesick puppy. If the fake names I gave early on were a little too cloying, it was only meant to protect the innocent; once I stopped thinking any of them were innocent, I stopped doing that, for the most part. Maybe it’s that their ploys seemed transparently obvious to her right from the start, and why couldn’t I see them as soon as she could? Or maybe it was just the fact that she can’t fathom the idea of looking for love, especially in a place like cyberspace, where you can never be sure if anyone out here is real. It’s a fair question, I suppose (and one that can’t be answered if the questioner hasn’t experienced an enduring and satisfying relationship themselves – although if they had, the question wouldn’t come up in the first place), but a moot point at this juncture. I’ve pretty much come to the end of the line at this point.

I don’t know if it’s ironic, or singularly appropriate, that the last of these should fall apart just as summer comes to an end. while we never went through this ourselves, the trope of the summer romance is well known, complete with the fact that it generally dies out as autumn sets in.

So now the winter sets in, with its barrenness. And unless she literally falls into my lap, I probably shouldn’t be expecting to meet Megumi any time soon… if at all. Still, I suppose it’s no worse than what I’ve been doing now, and with much less wasted time, so… yeah.

Regardless, remember to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck; I still think I’ll need it.