That’s why our meeting slipped my mind. I couldn’t think about anything for a while there.
Anyway, I’m fine now. Why don’t we get together so I can do you right?
Do me right? I hope he isn’t thinking about meeting for sex. He isn’t going to measure up to Devlin.
My schedule is completely flexible, all for you.
Yours,
Bruce
Your pleasure is mine
I purse my lips, feeling sorry for him about the cat, but also wondering if it’s true. I didn’t see any mention of cats or dogs in any of the escort profiles I picked out, and they did have a section on pets.
Plus, as much as I hate the fact that I’ve become so cynical, I’ve had two contractors who took my deposits and didn’t deliver what they promised until I threatened to get a lawyer. Both of them had one sob story after another, every bit of it as false as Sylvie’s eyelashes.
I pull out my phone and text Tasha to confirm my suspicions. I’ll feel a lot less bad if Bruce is not only a jerk who failed to deliver the service I paid for, but a lying jerk.
–Me: Hey, you remember Bruce? The escort guy? Do you remember if he listed pets or anything like that in his profile?
–Tasha: I remember him, and yeah, he had a pet. Why?
Oh. So maybe he did have a good reason for missing our fake wedding in Vegas. Now I’m feeling slightly guilty about filing the dispute with PayPal. I mean, I still want my money back, but maybe the refund process could go more amicably.
/> –Me: He just emailed me and said he couldn’t make it in Vegas because his cat died.
–Tasha: He didn’t have a cat. He had a dog.
–Me: He did?
–Tasha: His profile listed a dog. A three-year-old Dachshund.
–Me: You sure about no cats?
–Tasha: Yeah. Gimme a sec…
A few moments later, she sends me a screenshot.
–Tasha: His profile. See that?
I squint at it. Sure enough, he has a dog. Of course he does. A wiener dog!
–Me: Then why did he send me that excuse about his cat dying?
–Tasha: Didn’t you say you loved cats in your fake profile? I think in the questionnaire, you said you liked cats more than dogs.
That’s right. I sort of lied about some details because I didn’t want some stranger knowing the real me. And whether I liked dogs more or cats more was irrelevant anyway.
My cynicism is now roaring, pounding its chest and telling me it was right.
–Me: You think he’s giving me a fake sob story in order not to refund the deposit?
–Tasha: Probably. Bet he already spent it.
–Me: It was a lot of money!
–Tasha: And? That doesn’t mean he can’t spend it. For all we know, he could’ve gotten dick enlargement surgery. I read that’s a thing.