This is what I get for being a nice guy.
So last Sunday I was letting myself into my apartment when down the hallway I see this woman walking down the stairs. I was not really paying attention but I muttered a “good afternoon” and then went inside. About 10 minutes later there is a knock on my door (the first EVER in my building - everyone keeps to themselves and I never have unexpected guests). I open the door to find the same woman from a few minutes before, and this time I got a good look at her.
Her:
- Very skinny
- TONS of black mascara
- Hair unkempt
- Small bruise on right cheek
She tells me, “I live on the 4th floor and got locked out of my apartment. I had just gone to the store and my housemate was home but had left while I was gone. I dont have my keys….”. Now first off, our building requires a key to enter the outside gate, and I neglected to ask her how she got inside. But I guess she could have ridden someone else’s coattails.
Anyways she asks me, “I really need to use the bathroom, can I use yours?”. The nice guy I am feels sorry for her so of course I acquiesce.
A few minutes later she exits the restroom and then asks if she can come inside, for a few minutes until her housemate returns. Again I say yes.
So she sits down and pulls a pint of gin from her purse. “Its my birthday”, she says, ” and I was out at the liquor store when I got locked out. Want a drink?”. I was very hungover from the night before so I said no. “Oh come on, its my birthday!”. I begrudgingly said ok. Now, I hate gin and she had purchased the cheapest she could find. I got two glasses of ice and she poured a healthy amount in each. I took one sip and was immediately disgusted.
Now, the alarm bells should have been clamoring loudly, already her impression was on shaky ground. But I am such a sucker.
I asked her how she obtained the bruise on her face. “Oh, last night I was mugged. I was knocked unconscious and my attacker was slamming a stick in my back. I was just released from the hospital”. Or some bullshit story like that.
I asked her what she did for a living. “Oh I work in a lab, I am a biologist.” In retrospect, this would have been a perfect opportunity to gauge her truthiness. I dont know that much biology, but I know enough that I could come up with a question to ask her that a layman would likely not know. And if I did not receive an immediate, exact answer then I would know she was full of shit. I could have asked what an enzyme is, or what mitochondria is, or what is the real definition of a calorie. Anything!
But no, I didnt. Somehow the conversation changed to dating websites. “Oh! I have always wanted to do that. Can we make me a profile really quick?”. I was sitting at my desk with my laptop in front of me, so it was not a far-fetched question. Why not. So we hop over to Yahoo Personals and proceed to create a profile for her. She pulls up a seat next to me and off we go. So this is where my attention was not on her 100% as I was asking her questions and then typing them in. In front of me on my desk was my iPod and digital camera. “Oh, you have a Nano! I have never seen one of these before, they’re so cute.” And then picks it up and proceeds to look at my playlists. Tappity-tappity away I go. Then she picks up my digital camera and looks at the photos I had taken that weekend. Tappity-tappity away I go. Oblivious.
Over the course of 20 minutes or so she gets up to go the bathroom. One instance, she leaves the door slightly ajar but I dont hear her going pee like I did the first time. I thought it was kind of strange but didnt dwell on the lack of sound too much.
When we get to her actual “about me” section I press her for details. “I give really good head. I give resume head.”. “What the hell is ‘resume head’?”, I ask. “I give such good head I could put it on my resume.” Oh. Ok. “But no! Dont put that on my profile.”
Over the course of her little visit with Mr. Gullible (me) she has said a number of times that she gives good head. Was she hinting that I should ask her for a blowjob? No way. She was not attractive in the least and I would rather stick toothpicks under my fingernails then have her even touch me. (After she left I had to call a HazMat team to clean my house from her wretchedness.)
The weird thing was that she knew details about my neighbors and my building in general, that she sprinkled into our conversation. Her knowledge of local affairs disarmed me and made me believe that yes, she really did live in the building. She said she lived in 42, on the 4th floor. I believed her.
Now at this point you can see where this is going and the story comes to a close. Eventually she leaves.
With my digital camera and iPod. Which I didnt notice was gone until the next morning.
Upon this revelation I immediately went up to 42. No answer. I went to my managers unit to ask him about 42. No answer.
Its been a few days now and I have not been able to track down my manager (away for the holidays?) and have certainly not found anyone living in 42.
She conned me. She got me good.
I feel so damn stupid. And gullible. And bitter. And angry.
So yes, we did finish her Yahoo Personals profile. So if anyone is looking for an attractive, smart, sassy women to date, by all means, check her out.
No, that is not her real picture.
We had to create a Yahoo email for her, so of course I know her (new) email and password. Not that she is going to ever login, or maybe even remember what it is.
Already she has 71 messages and her profile has been viewed 288 times.
I did the internet dating thing awhile ago and I was lucky if I got a message a week. I am a handsome, smart (oh, wait, maybe not) and good person, I would think I would be a catch. This bitch has men beating down her door.