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Mistaken Identity

by Jennifer E, OH, USA, Age 15


Sometimes I think my life is lackluster. Predictable also, I might add. Every day is the same: I wakeup at the same time, drink the same coffee, listen to the same mix CD that my roommate made for me while taking a shower for precisely 16 minutes, and comb my hair the same exact way. Then I look in the mirror. I don’t look in the mirror with the same confidence as my roommate, Lindsey, though. I look with disgust. Something you ought to know about me is that I’m 29 years old, have blonde shoulder-length wavy hair and I am absolutely am obsessed with shoes. Oh yeah, and I’m about 30 pounds overweight.

I live in a two- bedroom apartment with my best friend Lindsey (the typical skinny blonde) in a little town outside of New York City. We work together for the New York City newspaper. Lindsey writes articles for the fashion column, and I work in the editing department. Recently Lindsey and I collaborated on an article she was writing about 1970’s-style platform shoes. My favorite!

After work we do the usual: grab a quick drink at the bar across the street from our office and then take the subway back to our apartment. Once I’m home, I then get on the computer and start my second life: chat rooms. I’m addicted. For the past four years I’ve been looking for a man, and I know chartrooms are more insidious than meeting a man at a bar, but I like them because my identity usually stays concealed. The people I meet in chat rooms can actually get to know my personality. Lindsey thinks chat rooms are ridiculous and galling, but they make me feel at least some what less lonely then I already am.

I haven’t gotten any decent results in a while, so I figured I should amend my profile, change it up a bit. Abby-Lynn Price, age 29, 5’4’, wavy blonde hair. I leave the “weight” section blank and put a smiley face. Why do they ask that anyways? Interests: Shoe shopping, watching movies, going to bars, reading, working, going to concerts and going out to dinner. I thought to myself: maybe saying I like to go out to dinner makes me sound fat and that I like to eat. So I erased it and clicked the “finished” button.

Suddenly I heard a tang like sound, which meant I had just received a private message. My heart was pounding; I called Lindsey in because I was too nervous to accept it. Most of the messages I get are from creeps that live in Mississippi. Lindsey, while rapidly eating a pint of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream (I don’t know how she does it) clicked the “accept” button. His message was: Your profile did a fabulous job of portraying you. My name is John, read my profile and tell me if you’re interested, because I definitely am. ?. John seemed very dissimilar to most of the guys I’ve talked to on this dating website. He actually sounded like a real person and wasn’t satiric or enmity. I feel strange saying this, but I almost felt an instantaneous connection. After about seven days of chatting online together, John thought it might be a good idea if we switched to the phone- since we were getting along so well. I agreed.

Now, I have to admit, I am extremely proud that I am actually going through with these nightly chats. He tells me I have a pretty voice and that I’m funny and that he is really starting to like me. That scares me. As he continued to say how badly he wants to meet me, all these emotions spewed out of me. I felt a feeling of deterioration as he went on, and mentioned to him that maybe we should send pictures first, and then meet. His voice rose with elation and he immediately agreed. Crap, what was I thinking? That was probably the stupidest thing I ever told him, besides the fact that eating is one of my least favorite things to do, and that I love working out. What am I going to do? As we said our goodnights and he told me he’d called me tomorrow after his meeting, Lindsey barged in my room with delicious smelling Chinese food. Just want I need at a time like this…food. (And no I’m not being sarcastic.) Food is my comfort: I exploit it way to much, especially when I’m upset, nervous or stressed out.

The next few days, John and I had awkward phone calls. I purposely ignored his call while Lindsey and I were out for Sushi. We were discussing the fact that he wants a picture of me, and the problem with that is that he’s expecting some thin, blonde, New York City business woman. Lindsey suggested I just tell him that I’m overweight and that that shouldn’t change anything. That was a stupid idea. I took a big sip of my Diet Coke, and all of a sudden got an idea-a somewhat outrageous idea but I thought maybe, Lindsey could pose as me. She didn’t agree at first, but then she saw how distressed I was getting over this and generously said she’d do it.

That night, John and I exchanged pictures. All I have to say is, thank goodness I sent a picture of Lindsey because this guy is gorgeous! I asked him why he didn’t have this picture on his profile (because you are allowed to post pictures) and he simply ignored my curiosity.

We’ve been talking now for over a month straight. For some strange reason, sending him that picture and making him think that that is what I look like gave me so much more confidence, and I think he could tell too. My stomach dropped when he casually suggested we meet. I impulsively agreed. Without even considering what Lindsey will say about me “barrowing” her for this blind date, I marked it in my calendar.

Surprisingly she agreed with out concern but emphasized the fact that she will go on only two dates and that is it. I debated with her, and we finally agreed on four.

I wish I had enough dignity and self-confidence for me to personally go on these dates. Lindsey reported back to me in detail after all of the dates. For some bizarre reason, they go out for a really long time. I’m talking a really long time. And I began to get a little nervous. After the fourth date, Lindsey told me, hesitatingly, that she had to stop. I told her I understood because we only agreed to four, but she interrupted me by saying John and her made plans to continue this because things were going incredibly well. I asked her what the problem was then and she simply told me that she was falling for this guy. My heart sank to my stomach. WHAT? (Thoughts of how bad of a friend Lindsey was starting racing through my mind, but then it accrued to me that if I weren’t so insecure that I could have actually had a man in my life.) She suggested that I tell him the truth. She was right. I had to face reality.

I dialed his number and hung-up three times. I had to stop being so juvenile. This is how I acted in the 7th grade when my friend dared me to call my crush. I pulled my self together and allowed it to ring until John answered. Without taking a breathe or giving him any chance to speak I flat out told him that after he sent me a picture of him and I saw how good looking he was , I panicked and sent a picture of my best friend because I thought you wouldn’t like me the way I really am. I quickly added at the end that I will totally understand if he never wants to speak again. I flipped my phone shut and threw it on my bed. As I slowly dragged my feet across the carpet toward the door, I herd my Red Hot Chili Peppers customized ring tone playing. What the heck? I thought to myself. The caller ID read “John.” Shockingly I answered it, anticipating what he had to say.

My mouth remained in a long oval shape the entire phone call. He exclaimed that he totally understands because coincidentally that picture wasn’t him either! He freaked out and send a picture of HIS friend because by the looks of my profile he said I sounded like a super model. We both laughed together about how incredibly immature we were, and agreed to meet, for real this time.

I felt as almost I got blessed with a lucky charm because he was perfect. He actually had quiet the stomach himself. Things went splendid and I’ve never been happier. As for Lindsey, she and John’s friend are currently dating as well.