My online relationship with Natalya—may she rest in peace—was different from all my other catfishing experiences in two ways. She never asked me for money, and she didn’t try to maintain the ruse that she was an American. She was up front—well, “up front”—about being from a foreign country after we’d connected outside the dating site.
Usually, after connecting via email or Google Hangouts or whatever, they try to maintain that they’re US citizens. Some have said that they’ve gone to Africa for work or family, like my Nigerian Girlfriends. Lately, catfishers have been, uhhh . . . “reaching out” to me via the Facebook or Instagram messenger services. Some will try to add me as a friend on Facebook or follow me on Instagram. I try not to connect with people that randomly via social media, but the messenger service is fine.
However, early on, probably around the same time I was first using Match.com and being catfished, I did accept one random woman’s friend request on Facebook. She’d chat with me sometimes. She said she was a “porn star,” but I believe the line of work she was in is what the kids nowadays call a “cam girl.” She’d try to get me to log into the webcam service, but I’d politely decline, telling her my card didn’t work to get her off my goddamn back about it. (That’s right. I lied to her. I’m a liar!!) I’d joke that we could just use Skype, and we’d go back and forth, just chatting about random stuff. I once entered “BFF?” into the chat, and we had a laugh. So that’s how she’d start our conversations, “BFF, you there?” She moved on to a new name and a new profile after a while, but it was kind of funny chatting with her.
My BFF was exceptional. She was openly trying to get me to subscribe to her, um, services. Most random women who want to communicate with me on Facebook or Instagram generally want to start communicating on another service. Their profiles don’t last very long—definitely not as long as my BFF’s—but we’ll keep talking through Google Hangouts or WhatsApp or email. A few have said that they’re from the US, but they’re in Ghana for work or family. Most, lately, will say that they’re from somewhere in the US—or “USA,” rather. They’ll say things like, “I’m from New York City, USA,” or “I originated from the USA in North Carolina.”
Does anyone in the US say “USA,” other than when chanting for the Olympic Team or during a World Cup Competition? I, personally, can’t thing of any other such usage—conversationally, anyway—Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” notwithstanding.
There’s also quite a bit of clearly non-native language use. “What is your bad and good experience of meeting a lady on the internet?” Who says “lady” like that? And sometimes I’ll see the word “foodstuffs,” which I can only recall seeing used in an academic sense, like in a pamphlet on budgeting.
Now, these may seem like they’re clearly non-native uses of English—at least to me—but I wanted to be sure that these women were actually foreigners—and likely catfishers—rather than merely stupid Americans. I had to come up with some sort of test of knowledge of the American vernacular without it seeming like a test. It had to seamlessly integrate into the flow of conversation. It also had to entertain me. (Well, testing someone’s knowledge of American English doesn’t literally have to entertain me, but this is my life, man. Back off.) Was there a single word I could slip into a text conversation to see if they understood it?
After a few months of exhaustive research, I narrowed the language down to a single word that Americans would, generally, know the meaning of but which was probably not covered in a foreign country’s English textbooks. That word, ding-dong, has been shown to be an excellent indicator of one’s knowledge of American English. Additionally, one’s response to and tolerance of the testing format has been shown to have a direct correlation to one’s intention to obtain money from me. (Yes, just me. There hasn’t been widespread use of this method yet.)
I know what you’re asking yourselves—and what many of you are probably already dreading the answer to. How do I use the term “ding-dong” to assess a person’s understanding of American English? I simply ask them if they’d like to see a photograph of one. Usually, I ask if they’d like to see what my ding-dong looks like. (No, I’m not especially proud of this, but also, I am incredibly proud of this—and entertained by it.)
First, I do not send “dick pics” to these people. I knew when I endeavored to devise a test of catfishers’ knowledge of American English that I would one day write about it, so I knew I couldn’t tell the world that I was sending “dick pics” all over the place. Oh, the shame! That’s why I coined the term “low-angle selfie.” Sounds a lot better, doesn’t it?
And don’t worry, there’s currently no formal testing process to see if people know what I mean when I say “low-angle selfie,” so I just explain it to people—not that “low-angle selfie” ever needs much explanation. I also have no idea how I would test someone’s understanding of the term. I’m at a complete loss.
Second, this may seem like I’m sending unsolicited low-angle selfies to women. This is not true at all. I’m asking if they want to see one. Also, I may be sending some of these to men. Who knows who’s on the other side of these catfishing accounts?
I have a pretty firm “No unsolicited low-angle selfies” policy and an ever-narrowing interpretation of the word “solicit.” That being said, I do send low-angle selfies as a reply to spam texts that try to sell me Viagra or Cialis or Enzyte or whatever. It’s just a simple what to say, “Thank you, but no.” Is all this necessary? No, but as the great Patches O’Houlihan said in the film, Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story, “Necessary? Is it necessary for me to drink my own urine? . . . No, but I do it anyway because it’s sterile, and I like the taste.” So, there you have it.
You may also be concerned that this is really a form of extrajudicial punishment, and that I’m not observing these catfishers’ rights to due process. My response to that is simple. You call my low-angle selfie a punishment? That’s hurtful. And they do say they want to see it. If they ever declined, I would not send the picture. I’m a fucking gentleman.
I tell friends about the testing process sometimes, and recently some were a bit incredulous about me sending my low-angle selfies to catfishers. I do really send it. Now how, you may be wondering, did I ever get the idea to send them at all. Well, and this may seem a bit personal, but when two consenting adults care about each other in a special way—and they’re also banging—they sometimes share intimate pictures of themselves with each other. During the Renaissance, Leonardo would have had to paint a picture of his low-angle self to share with his special someone. Nowadays, we just use our mobile telephones.
Now, I gave a lot of thought to this—and I was on the fence about it—but I’m going to share with you a sample conversation of how such photographs may be sent between a loving, consenting couple. It will help many see how all this—“all this”—works. Who knows, this sample may form a template for two consenting lovers to add a certain spark to their intimate relations. Picture the following as a text dialogue between a beautiful, yet unnamed, non-current lover and myself:
My beautiful lover: Hello. How are you doing? I was just this moment thinking about some of the times we have had sexual intercourse.
My beautiful self: Oh, hi. I am doing fine. How are you doing? I like thinking about the times that we have had sexual intercourse. Indeed, I often do, and now that you mention it, I am, as of now, also thinking about the times that we have had sexual intercourse.
My beautiful lover: Well, is that not something, that we are both thinking about the times that we have had sexual intercourse? All this thinking about sexual intercourse has brought about in me a state of sexual arousal.
My beautiful self: That is, indeed, quite the coincidence, for all this thought of the times we have had sexual intercourse has also brought about in me a state of arousal.
My beautiful lover: This is very interesting, that we are both in a state of sexual arousal from thinking about the times that we have had sexual intercourse. Indeed, and I hate to be a bother, but could I trouble you for a photograph of what your current state of arousal looks like? You could take your photograph with your telephone.
My beautiful self: I would be happy to oblige. Here is a photograph of my low-angle self during my state of arousal. And, by the way, while we’re on the subject of thinking about the times we have had sexual intercourse, would it be too much to ask . . .
And then it goes on. I’ve had several text conversations that parallel this one pretty closely. Hot shit, huh? I should totally write an erotica.
That’s how I originally got the idea to share a low-angle selfie with anyone, let alone my catfishers. Imagine if I hadn’t a history of such titillating text conversations with women. I would have no idea how to formally gauge catfishers’ knowledge of the meaning of the word ding-dong nor of American vernacular in general.
I don’t take a new low-angle selfie each time I administer the Ted Perrin Test if English Is a Second Language. New ones are for that special someone or someones down the road. Hell, there are times when I’m sending the photograph out so frequently—mostly to spam texters—that having a new photo session each time might be, well, problematic for a man my age. So, I just download it from the most recent thread where I’ve used it and send it again. Then I delete it from the downloads in my phone.
Is that a cumbersome process? No, it doesn’t take long at all. I do have some weird picture files saved on my phone, and my low-angle selfie wouldn’t be too far outside the norm in there. I just don’t want to scroll past it when I’m showing people some of my hilarious and inappropriate memes. There is a picture that looks like it’s my low-angle selfie in there, but it’s just my knuckle sticking through my fly. I once took a picture like this and sent it to everyone in my army reserve unity (and this was before I went off the rails). They were upset with me.
So anyway, I just download the pic and send it. I’ll ask if they’d like to see a picture of what my ding-dong looks like, and they’ll say “Sure!” or “Of course!” Then, they’re responses are just hilarious—if only to me. “Why you show me your dick?” or “Why you do that?” “That’s my ding-dong,” I’ll say. “I wanted to show you what it looks like.” “Oh,” they’ll reply and get right back to the business of catfishing me. Sometimes they’ll compliment it after I tell them why I sent it, but it doesn’t come across as heartfelt appreciation.
You may be wondering if there’s any additional benefit to the Ted Perrin Test if English Is a Foreign Language beyond confirming that I’m dealing with non-native speakers and entertaining myself. The short answer is “no.” Indeed, anecdotal evidence appears to show that there isn’t much of an educational return on the testing process. The one English term used in testing doesn’t seem to be something that test subjects are actually learning.
I recently got a message request on Instagram, and she quickly wanted to bring the conversation to Google Hangouts. I gave her my id, and soon after I got a message from a profile that had already tried to catfish me more than a year before. I was delighted. I just kept sending messages as if our history didn’t matter. I just acted like hadn’t a care in the world. (Relatively easy for me to pull off. There’s very little I really care deeply about.)
She mentioned something along the lines that we had already been through this before. “At least you already know what my ding-dong looks like,” I replied.
“I don’t know this,” she said.
So, I downloaded the pic from that same thread to re-send it to her. Hilarious, right? But also, disappointing. I realized that much like the problems in our primary and secondary education systems in the US, testing isn’t teaching. All I’ve been doing is seeing if these women knew what the term ding-dong means. That has actually gone incredibly well. None of them knew what a ding-dong was. The test worked. You can question my methods, but you can’t argue with my results.
If I want real results, if I want to make a difference in the world beyond merely entertaining myself, I need to teach these women what ding-dong means—along with other euphemisms for male genitalia.
I reached out to Educational Products, Incorporated, out of Carrolton, Texas, with my plans for flash cards to teach prospective catfishers about American slang terms for male genitalia. I included some prototypes (ding-dong, of course, and pecker, among others). I was up front with them that I want to promote diversity through the TedCards® process, but I currently had only one person’s low-angle selfie to use, my own.
Well, from their response, you’d think that I’d threatened an attack on their offices. I was so excited to get a response from their legal team, thinking it was a contract. (I’d be set for life!) But it was a cease-and-desist order demanding that I stop sending them—and this is their word—“obscene” material.
Fine. They don’t see the future as I do, but was it necessary to threaten legal action? I don’t think so.
While it’s a bit disheartening to have such a setback in a project that I’ve put my heart and soul (and then some) into, I can hang onto my vision and keep trying. For now, I’ll just keep testing catfishers’ knowledge of American English.
There are two more stories of my catfishing adventures in the hopper. Up next, my online love affair with Clara.
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