I’m not a stalker. I’m more like a risk assessor. Let me say that from the start, because I’m aware of how my actions may be misconstrued and, taken out of context, they may appear, well, somewhat creepy. However, when I’m arranging a first date, in my bedroom, that involves a blindfold and all I have is a picture and a profile description to go by, then precautions need to be taken to ensure that the person I’ve arranged to meet is legit. I don’t want a random stranger, who may look entirely different from the image I’ve seen on screen, turning up in my house with the intention of having sex with me.
Anyone who has spent enough time online dating is aware how often this can happen. I met a guy once, a decade ago or more, at Rio’s Naturist Spa in Kentish Town, London, who was 50 pounds heavier and a decade older than his picture had shown him to be. My first words to him were, “You must be kidding me.” (No word of a lie). I don’t want Fred Bundy, after I’ve ordered George Clooney. Even though I nearly always have an AirBnB guest, whose room is separated by a very thin wall next to my own, which enables me to feel somewhat safe, I do run a quick background sweep as a secondary measure. That’s when I start building a paper trail, stitching together Companies House, LinkedIn, and the odd reverse image search to make sure the man arriving at my door is the one I agreed to meet. I want to know, with as much certainty as one can know anything when arranging a very risky first sex date, that I’m not going to get stabbed, molested, kidnapped or have sexual intercourse with a blimp (nothing against rotund men, but they’re not my preference).
Here’s how it works in case you’re curious and want to try this out on someone you know. Search their name and area if you’re in the UK on the Companies House website; if they’re a company director their name and birth month/year will often show. Easy. From there it’s simple to pop over to LinkedIn and find the name and the company with whom the name is associated. It sounds fiddly, but most single female friends I know do this. If they happen to have provided a picture they’ve used on other sites, you can also try reverse image search on Google, although more often than not, you’ll often find the brand of shirt they’re wearing, not the man. Despite advances in facial recognition for use by, for instance, members of the police force, Google does not appear to have yet adapted the technology useful enough for mid-life, curious women. Take any random picture of a man with a beard, for example, and you could be told that your next date happens to be with the recently bearded Matt Damon.
In this particular instance, it did help that when me and my prospective sex date had moved our communication off the swinging site on which we’d found each other and onto WhatsApp, up popped his real name. Result. Another man with whom I’m speaking is merely in my phone as Jason Feeld weeks after we matched, and no amount of searching his picture, his financial background, or his first name has led me to deduce any more about him than what he told me during our first (and only) coffee date. I suspect Jason may not be his name, or perhaps, he works for MI5.
(Yup, for this extremely explicit story, you will need to upgrade)
