I should really have worked for the NSA or something. The guy I’d meet on Friday night, {insert firstname} with an Italian last name (I’m horrible remembering names), had spouted off a bunch of facts about himself, 43, previously married, 11 year old son, the most of which I failed to remember. Some of it, at first glance didn’t sync up. The biggest red flag, when I offered him my mobile number, he professed to not having one nor did he have a home telephone. Who doesn’t have a cell phone these days? He also offered up some tidbits about his employment, but this too seemed inconsistent. I still liked him, clearly intelligent, but need to be careful.

Despite my drunk stupor, I managed to remember a few facts and I saw a couple of things in his apartment that I banked away. So I started digging, it’s like a treasure hunt, with virtually no information, off I went. An hour into my search, bang I find him. Data searches are like jigsaw puzzle, one piece of data opens the door to another piece and in a few short clicks you can get a picture of someone. You can hide from no one these days.

Turns out the guy is damn well educated, ivy league, has a respectable job history and knows how to write and virtually everything he told me was indeed true. I get his email address, verify the server still knows who he is and fire off a nice intro email. We’ll see if he answers.

Unfortunately, a lot of people don’t always tell the truth about who they are. So I’m always skeptical when I first meet someone until I can independently verify their information. Trust but verify should be your motto as well.

Postscript: My friend responded with a nice email along with a comment “..I’m checking the scene out..”. Sounds like he’s in his slut period, course with all his rules, it must be interesting.