Catfish Secrets and Scorpio Shenanigans

Catfish, Secrets, and Scorpio Shenanigans: My Facebook Dating Chronicles"

So there I was, navigating the treacherous waters of Facebook Dating (which, let’s be honest, is like online shopping for disasters). Enter Patrick, who presented himself as a Navy man — I mean, who doesn't love a uniform? I pictured us in romantic, tropical locales where I could wear sun hats and sip on coconut water while he saved the world. But hold up, y’all... something was off.

This dude had two different Facebook pages. Two! And the more I investigated (I was like Sherlock Holmes, but with a glass of wine in my hand), the more bizarre things got. First, he told me his parents had been married for over 60 years. Sweet, right? But then, in a plot twist. I found another page where it said his mom died four years ago. Wait, what?

I felt like I was trying to date a secret spy or, at best, a dude who failed a Navy recruitment background check and decided to just wing it. But there I was, going down a rabbit hole so deep, I felt like Alice on a mission to figure out if Patrick was a Navy SEAL or the world’s most committed internet catfish. It was exhausting and confusing, and at some point, I was convinced that the only thing “real” about Patrick was the profile picture I’d seen for a solid week.

Then came Marcellus. Lord. He was a fellow Scorpio (I mean, we Scorpios get each other), so I thought maybe we could vibe. But nah, this man... This man told me it would be an honor for me to sleep with him. I had to sit there and digest the audacity of a dude who thought he was a living legend, like he was the main event in a Marvel movie, and I was just a casual bystander. “Women fall at my feet,” he said. Women fall at your feet? Bruh, you're not a Roman god, you’re just a guy with a questionable haircut and an ego bigger than his Tinder profile.

That was the end of that. Four days — four glorious days — and I was over here wondering if I should’ve just gone for a nice cup of tea and called it a day. Instead, I spent those four days elevating Marcellus his potential. Meanwhile, he thought his bedroom skills were the crown jewels. Spoiler alert: They weren’t.

So, again minding my own business, when I matched with a guy who claimed to work for the FBI. Naturally, I was intrigued. I mean, who wouldn’t be? An FBI agent sliding into your DMs? Sounds like the plot of a movie. But as I dug deeper, things took a bizarre turn.

This guy didn’t just text—he sent me on scavenger hunts. Yes, you read that right. One day I’m getting messages with clues, the next, I’m running around my neighborhood trying to find "secret" locations he’d mentioned. I had to decode cryptic riddles like I was in some kind of spy thriller.

And it didn’t stop there. He kept setting up more shenanigans—tasks that made no sense but somehow I felt compelled to complete. There was one time he had me taking photos of my shoes, asking for proof that I was "following the rules." Another task had me talking to a random stranger about the color blue, because… why not? It was as if I had signed up for a bizarre reality show, but I wasn’t winning anything.

The more this went on, the more I began to question: is he actually real? Was I being punked? Or was he just a bored dude with way too much time on his hands and a knack for weird games?

Finally, after weeks of playing along with his antics, I decided enough was enough. I asked him directly if he was even real. The response? “Classified.” Classic FBI.

Then I disappeared.

A Swipe into the Past.

It had been twenty years since I last saw him. Two decades. That time had passed in a blur, but in a way, I could still remember every detail of our last conversation like it was yesterday. We were both in our twenties back then—full of life, dreams, and that reckless youthful energy that made us feel invincible. He had always been a bit of a mystery, a guy who could charm the world with his smile, but I knew better than to fall for it.

So, when I swiped right on his profile, I wasn’t expecting much. In fact, I was just curious. After all, people change, right? Or at least, they’re supposed to. I hadn’t spoken to him in years, and my mind was flooded with old memories, like a mixtape of nostalgia and unresolved questions.

The match notification pinged on my phone, and my heart skipped a beat, though I tried not to let it show. It was him. I couldn’t believe it. I was hesitant but intrigued. I thought, "Why not? Let’s see what this guy is really about."

But the moment I decided to reach out, things didn’t feel quite right. The number he had listed wasn’t working. I dialed it, expecting the usual connection. But instead, I was met with an automated voice telling me the number was disconnected. I frowned, unsure whether it was some glitch.

I shot him a text, asking, "Yo, your phone’s off. What’s going on?"

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a message from him. It was a simple reply: “Check WhatsApp.”

I didn’t hesitate for a second. I quickly downloaded the app and logged in, hoping this wasn’t some elaborate scam. It felt like I was diving into unknown waters. A moment later, my phone buzzed again—this time, it was him, sending a link to a video call on WhatsApp.

I hesitated for just a second but clicked the link anyway. The screen lit up, and there he was, his face smiling back at me.

"Hey, long time no see!" I said, trying to keep my tone casual.

We exchanged pleasantries for a few moments, catching up on the surface level stuff—his job, his family, my life. But there was something off. I could feel it. My gut told me this wasn’t just an innocent reconnection. There was a reason his phone was off. Why had he directed me to an app like WhatsApp? Why didn’t he just use a normal phone call?

As we talked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was playing some kind of game. Maybe it was the way he kept glancing away from the camera, or the weird pauses in his responses. Something didn’t add up.

And then, just like that, I got my answer.

He set his phone down on the corner of the table. I watched, confused, as he stepped back out of the frame. And then—he just kept going. Stepping farther back, until the camera caught everything.

He was completely naked. I mean, buck naked.

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. Was this really happening? Was this the same guy I used to know—this man who could charm his way into anyone's good graces? My mind raced. I was shocked, repulsed, and completely caught off guard. I’d heard of weird stuff happening on these apps, but this…this wasn’t just strange. It was crossing a line.

Without thinking, I hung up the call immediately. My hand shook as I set my phone down, my stomach churning with disgust. How could someone be so bold? So careless? He hadn’t changed. If anything, he’d gotten worse.

I sat there for a few minutes, staring at the screen, trying to make sense of what had just happened. It felt like a slap in the face, a reminder of how some people just don’t evolve, no matter how much time passes.

But I knew one thing for sure. I wasn’t going to let myself be a part of his twisted games. I had no interest in playing along. So I deleted the app, blocked his number, and decided I was better off without this chapter ever reopening.

It was time to move on. And as I thought about it, I realized something important—I hadn’t just swiped right to reconnect. I swiped right to remind myself that I had grown. I had learned. And I was no longer willing to tolerate the nonsense that used to seem like part of the fun.

Sometimes, the past is better left where it belongs: behind you.