Don't Look Now But Your Mask Is Slipping...
...not a good thing during COVID
With Inga's announcement that she was seeking to change her surname, seemingly on a whim, I admit to feeling more than a little discomfort. Up to this point I was willing to accept the thoughts and details Inga would relate in her emails to me, without question. Indeed, I was still attempting to probe for additional information related to her history, but having met with resistance, I thought it best not to push too hard. I assumed that this was all a matter of trust for her and the relative newness of our long-distance relationship would give way to a more forthcoming, engaged Inga.
In the weeks since our initial "meeting" I was content with the dozens of messages per day and the good feelings that accompanied my packing boxes of gifts for Inga and Eva to enjoy. However, it should be noted that email was nearly the only way we could communicate. Ingeborga was quite competent with English to the point of being effortlessly fluent. Sure, I had to be careful with using American slang or colloquialisms as they simply were not easily understood. But, my attempts to telephone her usually failed. Likewise, text messaging yielded nothing despite T-Mobile confirming the messages were successfully sent. (Perhaps we should stick a pin in these oddities at this point in the story.)
All of this was taking place in the Fall of 2020. The world was still in heightened COVID-19 vigilance while the USA was experiencing post national election spasms as we reached mid-November. With the US presidential election finally decided, I was informed that I was being considered for an appointment to a role with the US government. Consenting to the vetting process would require my completion of a rather long and intrusive questionnaire, the SF 86. Responses to the form create the foundation for a national security clearance and I dutifully completed the questionnaire, including Section 19 related to contacts with foreign nationals. I was neither shy nor did I experience any discomfort detailing the nature of my, then brief on-line relationship with Inga. Little did I realize that after submitting the form would a small firestorm develop.
Shortly after the new year was ushered in I was asked to attend a meeting to discuss my application for the required security clearance. I met with a contractor, representing the US Office of Personnel Management who did nothing to put me at ease by initiating the meeting with a warning related to the penalties for making false statements or deliberately misleading federal investigators. That certainly got my heart thumping in my chest and generated a few beads of sweat. However, for the 45 minutes or so that questions were asked of me, no doubt to validate my written responses, I had begun to relax.
Then I was sucker punched!
The OPM contractor asked me to describe the nature of my relationship with Inga. In response, I nearly quoted my written response to the same SF 86 question. I was then asked if it would come as a surprise to me to learn that Inga was married and that she lived at an address different than the one I had been using to send those boxes of gifts. To this day I still cannot describe the feelings that washed over me with this pronouncement. A little bit of fear mixed with disappointment and anger are the best descriptors; although, not all in equal measure. I believe the OPM delegate quickly sensed my bewilderment with her demeanor morphing from the formal tone she had initially adopted to a kinder, more conciliatory voice. I barely remember the content of the remainder of the meeting but as it concluded, the contractor offered an apology and her urgings to exercise extreme caution.
I cannot be certain nor, I suppose, I will ever learn if this episode of relationship ignorance was what doomed me for consideration to a federal appointment. All I know is that a couple of weeks later, I received a polite letter thanking me for my interest.
Better late than never?
After being admonished for my lack of due diligence I was struggling with what to do next. Was Inga one of those dating scammers about whom I read in so many articles? Did Ingeborga actually exist or was she the invention of a dating site host attempting to extract as much money as possible from an eager and short-sighted man?
Now, I realize that there are some of you who upon reading this will roll your eyes and wonder why I even bothered to pose these questions to myself. However, I wrote previously about my more empathic views, particularly when engaged with certain people. As much as I was angered and disappointed over those shared revelations, I also wanted to know what was underlying the apparent subterfuge.
Clearly it was well past time to do some investigating.