Sway with me...

Hmmm, so I’m sitting at my desk at work as per usual, and suddenly get that familiar vertigo feeling. It’s quite a sudden strong woozy feeling. It’s strange, as when I normally get vertigo (a delightful condition where I feel dizzy and nauseous) there are warning signs and it gradually develops. This is different. It feels like everything is suddenly moving. A lady in the office did make a comment earlier about the building moving and particularly being able to feel it at this end of the office. But surely “that” feeling could not be the building!

I looked over my cubicle and ask the manager sitting across from me, “Did you feel that, or am I imagining things?” There was a moment of silence and then he replied, “Yes, I felt that. I was wondering what that creaking sound is but it’s just that door moving” Seriously? I’ve worked in tall buildings before, and on a lot higher floors, (I’m only on the 10th) and I have never felt that kind of movement before. The manager cheerily piped up, “If you look all the way down the (open plan) office at the light switch cords you can see they’re all swaying”. He’s right.

So, speaking of swaying and feeling sick – that kind of describes the feeling when you realise something is “not quite right”. For example, when I found out “Paulo” was not indeed “Paulo” or when I found out “007” had lied about everything. I think “007” is an apt alias, as he did have more identities than a spy, and he had a habit of “killing” people (long story – another time). I was chatting to a good friend “Tiffany” the other day, and recounting the “Paulo” story – she made a hilarious comment, “when was ‘Paulo’ going to tell you that wasn’t his name? At the alter?!” Which made me wonder, when would he have told me? Would he have told me? With “007” I had the “not quite right” feeling for months, and in the end he didn’t come clean. I had to unravel his web of lies and he never did explain himself.

So my question to anyone reading this is: what motivates these men to lie about fundamental truths? I can understand why men exaggerate facts to impress, but why lie about who you are? (Unless you are a criminal on the run). You’re setting yourself up for failure, as it’s inevitable that you’ll get caught out. Unless as Tiffany said “how was ‘Paulo’ going to get out of this lie? What was he going to do, change his name by deed poll?!”

Before I started working here I heard rumours about this building. It was supposedly only build to last 10 years, and yet we’re working in it 30 years later. I ignored these rumours up until now, thinking they were a lie or exaggeration. Now I’m a little “concerned” and starting to feel incredibly sea sick! I’ve only been at work an hour… if I’m going to last the day I think I’m going to have to get some anti-sea sickness tablets!

Is it me?!

Is it me? Seriously?! What is it about me that seems to attract, liars, psychopaths and guys with deep rooted mummy issues?! I just don’t get it…..

Ok, so id you’re wondering what inspired the above rant, let me explain:

Important background info: This all started in June, I was out celebrating a friend’s birthday in delightful Watford. A guy started to chat me up, but I was having none of it. A) he wasn’t my typical type (so sue me, I have shallow moments!) and B) I have principles about meeting people in Watford (long story!). Against my better judgement my friend convinced me this guy was “nice” and that I should give him my number. So stupidly I gave Paulo my number. It’s now November…. Since June we have been on a few dates – only a few as Paulo’s father (who is in the Italian army) has been ill and Paulo’s had to fly back and forth to Italy to see him (his family lived just outside Milan). At the time, seeing him once every 3 weeks or so also suited me: I’d just started a Masters, I had holidays booked (yes more than one), and I was just generally busy.

The actual event: We met in Central London on Saturday, this must have been our 5th date. My original hesitation regarding Paulo was fading and I was beginning to like him. We met in a bar, had a few drinks, then kissed, had a few more drinks etc. Following this I asked him to come and have a few drinks in a nearby bar with my cousin as it was her birthday. We met my cousin and friends. My cousin gave me her stamp of approval, she thought Paulo was hot. After an hour or so Paulo suggested that we go to a club. We said goodbye to my cousin and off we went.

The queue at O’Neils was quite long so we decided to go to Tiger Tiger, but when we realised the entry was £15 we decided against it and headed back to O’Neils. When at Tiger Tiger we had been ID’d – therefore this proved the prime opportunity to complete the first of my standard security checks – checking the ID. After dating a complete psycho a few years ago, who lied about everything, (including pretending him own mother had died) - I have now implemented a series of security checks – yes, I know this may seem a little neurotic but read on…. So I asked Paulo if I could see his driving licence, he replied it wasn’t a driving licence, it was only a provisional. Duh, it’s still a form of driving licence. So I asked if I could see his “provisional driving licence”? He replied no. So I asked why? His response was that he hated his photo. I replied everyone hates their photo’s on their driving licence and passport (not me – I like my photo, however I did take several sets before settling on the best one to submit!). So I repeated my request, “go on, please let me see your driving licence? You can see mine if you want.” He replied no again….hmmm… “Why wont you let me see it?” Again “blah, blah I don’t like my photo”. Ok, so there was no way I was backing down now, seriously, this is the easiest security check to pass, what was the problem?

I flirtatiously said if he wouldn’t show me his “provisional driving licence” I wasn’t going to speak to him. This is a game I’m quite good at (perfected from sitting next to someone in school for 3 months and not uttering a word). Following a minute or two of silence, Paulo looked worried and asked “why I was being like that?”. My response was “this is a silly situation which you have created over a trivial thing”. I maintained, “show me the licence or suffer the silence”. (I know, this wasn’t very mature on my part, but hey, no one is perfect). So after another minute or two Paulo agreed to show me his licence, but only the photo. He put his hand over the info part of the licence and quickly waived it in front of me. He was right – it wasn’t a good photo. He put his licence away, presumable he thought that was enough to appease me….. I don’t think so…..

To pass the security check I needed to have a good look at the licence. I needed to check all the info matched what he had been telling me. So with a smile on my face I sweetly told Paulo, that wasn’t enough, and I wanted to see the whole licence as I was now paranoid about what he was hiding. At the time I was still tipsy I wasn’t too worried about this, and just thought he was being silly. That was until I saw Paulo’s face – he looked worried. We were now in the queue for O’Neils. So I joked, “oh no, you’re not 27 are you? You’ve lied about your age, are you older or younger?!” He asked what did it matter – I ignored this as I needed to see that license now. I asked to see it again, he replied he’d show it to me when we were inside. I joked, “what is the big deal with not showing me, what is your name not Paulo?” He then confessed, his date of birth wasn’t 1982, it was 1983, so he was not 27, “but he would be soon”. At first I thought he was joking, then I realised he wasn’t. Right, so that was the big secret. It wasn’t great, it was irritating, but actually that wasn’t a huge deal. So that was why he didn’t want me to see the licence……

But how did I know if that was the truth? I asked to see the licence for what seemed like the millionth time. He told me I could see it once we were in O’Neils. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t show it to me now, but then again I am quite impatient!

So we got into O’Neils, I paid the obligatory £8 which I thought was a rip off and I was now standing inside the bustling pub. I headed towards the bar, then stopped, I wanted to finish this silly little episode now, so I spun round on my heels and said “right, show me. Now.”. He anxiously produced his “provisional” and waived it in front of me. Hang on, I know I’m tipsy, but I did not see the name Paulo listed!

He sheepishly started to put the license away, and said he was sorry. I grabbed the licence and gave it a proper scan. Hang on Paulo is not listed some strange name that I couldn’t even begin to pronounce is listed, ok the date of birth is 1983, just one minute the country listed is not Italy, it is Albania. What the f***?!

“Paulo” kept saying he was sorry. I handed the licence back and stared at him in a bemused state of shock. What on earth was going on? I asked him to explain himself. He gave me some daft explanation about being in a fight on the night we met, and he didn’t want me to associate him with reputation that Albania’s have, and he did speak Italian, and had cousins there, blah blah blah. I didn’t know how to react to this, I was not expecting this, I kept thinking ‘but the date had been going so well’. I demanded, “so when were you planning to tell me the truth?! I don’t even know your name!” He said he was going to take me for dinner next week and tell me, but how could I believe that? I was beginning to quickly sober up. How could I believe anything he had told me? He kept apologising and saying he really like me and he was sorry. I had a million thoughts going through my head. “So when you kept saying you were going to Italy to see your dad was that the truth? You told me you’re dad was in the Italian army. Oh my god, do you secretly have a wife and three kids, is that why you couldn’t see me very often?” He explained his dad was ill, and was in the Albania army which was the same thing. It is not the same thing! “Albania and Italy are not the same thing. Albania does not even border Italy, what inspired you to say you are Italian?!” Actually I didn’t want to know.

I did not know what to say. I stood there is silence for a moment with my brain going into overdrive. I looked at “the person formally known as Paulo” who was looking at me with puppy eyes waiting for my reaction. I took a deep breathe. Our dates had all gone really well; we had been having a great night; he was polite and gentlemanly; we got on well; he was intelligent; we had a laugh. WAIT a minute he had lied – He had LIED – that was my cardinal sin - that was why I had the standard 3 stage security checks. He had lied – and not a little lie, a huge one about everything – he had spectacularly failed the first security check. I had never envisioned someone failing this first check in such a way. My ‘He’s Just Not That Into You/ It’s Just a Date” common sense kicked in and I realised – what was I thinking! Forget all the “nice” qualities - he had lied, there is no going back from that. He had broken my trust, and I know me, I would never trust him now. I would always cynically question everything he told me. There would always be a nagging doubt in the back of my mind, and I would always wonder if he was telling the truth. I calmly asked him “How did you think I was going to react when you told me?” He said he had been expecting me to slap him. I quickly thought about it, but why bother? I looked at him told him I could never trust him and I didn’t understand why he had lied when he could have told me the truth on our first date. I then spun around and walked out of O’Neils. I didn’t look back – I called my cousin and headed back to the bar she was in. That was the end of “Paulo”.

So can you understand why I ask is it me? I spoke to my friend, lets call him, Jack, (he’s an ex-boyfriend that I’ve know over 10 years) – I wanted a male perspective, and he and I are generally brutally honest with each other. So I asked, is it me? What is it that I’m doing wrong?! He said I'm doing nothing wrong. Hearing this just made me frustrated. If I was obviously doing something wrong then I could “fix” things. If I’m doing nothing wrong then how/why do I attract people with such issues? I just don’t get it….

There is a lesson to this story: thank goodness for the neurotic security checks…. at least I can say I learn from my mistakes.