It Turns Out Joel the Interior Designer Wasn’t An Interior Designer OR Named Joel

Let’s take a moment to discuss pathological liars. I have already ranted about my ex-boyfriend, Joey, making up an entire vacation so that he didn’t have to hang out with me. And now you’ll find out about Joel…And, by the way, I feel okay using that name — because it’s technically not his name and I don’t think you can get angry at someone for using your real fake name.

Joel, a very fashionable, good looking guy whom I met in a bar,  introduced himself as an Interior Designer.  I was impressed with that (never having met an interior designer before). We spoke for a few minutes near the coat check, and exchanged numbers.

Joel would text me sporadically over the course of 7 months. I would say I’d receive roughly about three “Hello”s from him a week, whether I answered or not. When I did answer, the conversation was very dull and usually involved the topic of drinking, namely him asking me to come to the city to meet him for Happy Hour, and me telling him that I was going to meet my pillow for several happy hours. There was one night of texting, however, when our conversations didn’t die out right away. I don’t know if my dating hiatus made me crave the attention, or if he was genuinely being more talkative. Either way, I was actually starting to like Joel the Interior Designer.

We talked on phone for almost two hours on my birthday, and he sent me a cute little birthday audio note. During the midst of the conversation, I started to see that we actually had a lot in common. I was a little taken aback by one thing, though. Apparently, he wasn’t actually an interior designer. Rather, he was an interior design intern. Funny he didn’t mention that the picture he had sent me from “work” was actually from an “internship.”

I was a little weirded out but found out he was in school for interior design and thought…Who really wants to drunkenly tell a stranger every single detail of his/her life. Who knew how true my words actually were.

When we hung up the phone at night, I sent him a little “Goodnight :)” text message. That’s when it all went downhill.

“Before you get too close to me, I want you to look up Michael Lewis on Facebook.” Before I get too close? The kid was already saying things like, “Think about how fashion-forward our kids are going to be.” Don’t you just love guys?

I immediately looked up the name he gave me…and saw Joel’s picture staring back at me. What kind of sick joke was this?

I stared at the name Joel Interior Designer  in my phone for a solid minute before texting, “Is that a fake Facebook…or have you been having me call you Joel for 7 months like an IDIOT??”

“Joel is a name I invent when I’m drunk.”

“Okay, then it’s clearly the latter. Well, whoever you are, I’m going to sleep now.”

I laid in bed for another hour, staring at the ceiling. Why is this my life? Am I honestly not even worthy of getting a guy’s real name? And don’t think I didn’t use his name in our texting conversations — because I did. What a good laugh he must have gotten out of it.

Clearly I never met him after that. I’ve already had my fair share of pathological liars, thank you very much.

Has someone you’re talking to admitted that they gave you a fake name when you met? Was it after an obscene amount of time?

Keep on keepin' on,


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