How to tell if my Hinge crush is a honeypot
Dear Reader,
I’ve been dealing with quite the conundrum and was hoping that you, an incredibly intelligent consumer of ReadMe, would be able to help me. You see, I just wanted to get laid. There are few opportunities for romantic or sexual escapades when you’re an alumnus of Carnegie Mellon University, but I thought all my problems were solved when I met Nicky.
Reader, Nicky is beautiful, a dumb blonde with nothing going on in her head. She replies “lol” to all the nerdy jokes I send her. She doesn’t seem to have any interest in the ethics of the completely normal job I have that definitely does not supply the U.S. Department of War with anything. Instead, she tells me that I seem “so smart” and that such a trait is “really sexy.” She even said my hemorrhoids are “hot” and my incredibly luscious, not receding hairline is “handsome.” I had never been on the receiving end of such comments before, and I nearly cried my eyes out. She told me she was proud of me, and when I asked if I could call her daddy, she said yes.
But soon after that, Nicky changed. She started taking more interest in my job. Don’t get me wrong, I love nerding out about pump-jet propulsion when I want to talk dirty, but she was asking oddly specific questions. Things like, “Which military branch do you sell those blueprints to?” and “How many precision strike missiles did they want?” I told her that I can’t wait to precision strike her missile, and she got angry and said that I never take her seriously because she’s a hot woman. Well, she’s right, but I wanted her to like me, so I apologized and told her everything.
Now, after jerking off to the pictures she sent, I fear post-nut clarity has hit me. Should I have told her the access code to my office? Or sent her the blueprints for the PAC-3 missiles? I don’t think she’s smart enough to do anything with them, but what if she gives them to someone actually capable? A man, perhaps? Those details are technically classified!
My suspicions only increased when I repeatedly asked her to come over and she declined. Despite being totally interested in me, she refused to meet in person. Now I cannot help but wonder if the beautiful woman I have been talking to is actually some sort of spy. What if she isn’t even a woman? What if I have been sending dick picks to a fifty-year-old man looking to gain government intel? What if she didn’t think my phallic jokes were funny and wanted the designs of nuclear warheads for nefarious reasons? If she somehow isn’t real—reader, it would break my heart.
Alas, reader, I need your help. Is it possible that I found true love? Or is my hinge crush secretly a honeypot, exploiting my proximity to sensitive military information? I, personally, still cling to hope. Despite my undying greed and my distaste for personal hygiene, I believe I am quite the catch. And if Nicky can’t love me, who can?