My Fictitious Boyfriend

Let’s preface this story by letting you all know this was 4 ½ years ago. I don’t know if I am proud of this story or really ashamed of myself. Fuck that – who am I kidding? I think this shit is HILARIOUS… #noshame. I can say truthfully that  my intentions were definitely in the right place but the execution translates as a tad creepy. Regardless, I think it is an important story to share.

My first internship was at Extra! on NBC. I worked with about 6 other people I was totally in love with and we became this vakakta ethnically diverse family. When you spend 40 hours of unpaid labor a week with a group of people all hoping to get hired, it’s pretty miraculous for everyone to get along as well as we did. One of the girls I worked with, let’s call her Anna, got dumped by her long term boyfriend. She was so upset and as a team I decided to do my girlfriend duty to help aide her recovery. I have a very well-known history for being incredibly creepy and savvy with technology. ESPECIALLY  when it assists in relationships. I can hack, stalk, track anything with a pulse and a password. Trust me… I can say these things publicly because I have a boyfriend.

After having a mini group therapy session with Ana and the other female co-workers we all discussed our current relationship woes. Anna had been dumped, Carly had a friend with benefits that didn’t want to commit and I was still mourning my ex-boyfriend like a LOSER. We all collectively wanted to make the men in our life suffer. “Let’s just go find new boyfriends” eh… too much work. “We should all take this time and focus on our self and work on our goals” No thanks Judy Blume. “We don’t need them, we are strong beautiful girls with so much to offer!” If that’s true then why do none of these guys want to effin date us? Then a light bulb went off in my sick and demented head. LET’S MAKE A FACEBOOK PROFILE FOR A NEW HOT FICTIONAL LOVE INTEREST? DUH! The only logical solution. I am not a fan of jealousy, but with guys sometimes it is the only way to get shit done. Guys are overflowing with testosterone, they are naturally competitive and when faced with an opponent that threatens their ego will always react. It’s called science. It aint kosher but it fucking works. This was the blessed birth of Cole Jameson. Sexy name right? We decided he would be a Senior at UCSB majoring in Business ( I love a businessman). He enjoyed an early morning surf, a nice bottle of Spanish wine (he studied abroad obviously), had a family home in Nantucket, was intent on graduating Summa Cum Laude,  played on the soccer team and was absolutely infatuated with all 6 of us simultaneously. Can you say dreamboat?  We found the most discreet while still insanely attractive picture on Google images and completely fabricated the life, man and legend that was Cole Jameson. You may call this sick… I call this romantic justice.

He uploaded and tagged photos of us with suggestive yet under the radar captions like “ This girl ;)” or “Beautiful”. Now this was no half assed operation, I am like the Saul Goodman of fake love interests. I had all those privacy settings manipulated to each of our benefits like you couldn’t believe. We made sure he had enough friends, group affiliations, events attended. Not to sound seriously fucked up, but getting that ship up and sailing continues to be a very proud moment for me. I was never a scholar, so I count that operation as a serious academic achievement. Cole Jameson was a serious stud muffin. Distant friends would ask “who is that Cole guy? He is so hot!” Id casually reply, “Just some guy I met. Not sure if I’m into it, he really wants to be exclusive and I am just playing the field right now.” Some girls we even considered “friends” would message Cole saying “Hey I live in the area we should meet up for drinks sometime ;)” painfully unaware who was on the other side of the computer… OG Catfish right there. Obviously all my best friends were in on the scam and were equally as proud as I was. All my friends are total creeps and honest enough to admit it which is why I love them. My roommate and I would check in places with him on Four Square, create fake inside jokes, tag really blurry photos of guys on the street claiming to be him. Fucking genius. Haute Mess Lesson: If you’re a good enough creep, you should be able to brag about it without judgement.

Cole was an amazing gift, he helped so many people. This was my girlfriend Mitzvah project. The second Anna’s ex-boyfriend saw how quickly she was moving on with this mystery hunk he IMMEDIATELY wanted to rekindle things. Carly’s friend with benefits felt so inferior to Cole’s public displays of affection towards her and wanted to see more of her. I got absolutely zero reaction from my ex probably because he knows me too well and knew this is standard Jackie creep move. Whatever, this wasn’t for my benefit anyways. Fazing Cole out of our life was difficult. How could a man so present in all of our lives suddenly just disappear? Should he move to Europe for an internship? Go to Kenya and teach orphans English? Die in a freak plane crash in his father’s private jet? The options were endless. We decided to keep it classy and just have things fizzle out naturally. We individually thought of reasons Cole was no longer in our life. “He was just too clingy.” “I just didn’t feel we had chemistry.” “I need to focus on me right now.” “He is anti-Semitic” “ We’re just better off as friends.” “He has herpes” “He is just WAY too into me!”

I wish I didn’t impulsively delete Cole’s legacy a few years ago out of shame. It was a thoughtless move and I definitely got some choice words from friends who were STILL using Cole for revenge. Cole had become such a life saver. The concept of Cole was filtered through our various groups of close friends OUTSIDE of work and I felt like the Mark Zuckerberg of creepy fake internet boyfriends. I started to feel that Cole’s persona was getting too hard for me to manage and with the free flowing outpost of login information, I needed to put the kibosh on things quick! The second I hit “Delete Account” a bit of my heart broke. Cole and I had been through so much together and regardless of his actual existence, I found a real friend in him. RIP Cole in all your sexiness, athleticism and scholarly accolades. Love you forever.


One thought on “My Fictitious Boyfriend

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