My computer dinged with an incoming Match message.
We should talk, wrote a person whose handle suggested British heritage.
This could be interesting, I said to myself. DaveTheBrit had not previously caught my eye, but I gave him points for being bold. I’m freaking tired of twenty-message exchanges about the weather and what music I like.
Me: Why, so you can woo me with your British accent?
Me: What are we going to talk about?
DaveTheBrit: We’re going to talk about how you’re coming over tonight for dinner and Netflix.
[I pause here to reassure readers I’d never venture to a stranger’s place for a first or even fifth date. I have no desire to have my dating life fictionalized on Law and Order.]
But my heart skipped a beat. He was thinking beyond I can’t wait for spring or I heard the Civil Wars broke up. I held my response, not feeling the need to state the obvious but not wanting his cyber flirting to end. I decided to play coy.
Me: I lived in London for a year… I’m immune to your British charm.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Refresh screen. Tick tock.
DaveTheBrit: Well, I’ve lived in the U.S. for twenty years. I really sound more Australian now. Maybe that’ll do something for you.
Yeah, it did something for me. It made me think he was a big fat liar. Now I’m imagining a different scenario than what dinner and a movie inspired. I’m imagining DaveTheFakeBrit having beers with a buddy and mentioning he wasn’t getting much attention on Match.
BeerBuddy: Dude, you should totally say you’re British. Chicks dig a British accent.
DaveTheFakeBrit: You’re a genius!
Fast forward to the other night.
DaveTheFakeBrit (in panicked text to BeerBuddy): Dammit! Winked at hot chick. She lived in U.K., gonna know my accent is fake!
BeerBuddy: Shit! Say U R Australian! U sound more like the Crocodile Hunter anyway.
His last words of our short-lived exchange suggested he’d leave me breathless; instead I’m stunned. Maybe he’s really British but decided I was boring. Maybe he’s American and knew he was nabbed. The crazy thing about online dating is you have no idea what’s real versus what’s fiction.