On social media avatars, most of us have gone from uBabes Wamalahle, to uBabes Wodumo. Then things get awkward when you meet your online friends in person and they look nothing like their pictures on social media. Here are a few Cape Town peeps on some of their experiences:
“I am much bigger than I appear online”
“It was on a Sunday afternoon at V&A Waterfront, when I decided to get a scoop of ice cream because I have already given up on a summer body. While waiting in line, I saw the girl I’ve been hitting on via Facebook. I immediately froze, left the line, and ran to my friend who was waiting for me near the queue. I tried to convince my friend that I did not want the ice-cream anymore because I should be on diet anyway. Then I heard a giggle. It was my crush and her friend. They pointed at me saying, “Is it him?” “Yes it is,” then they broke into laughter. I just stood there. It hit me that I looked nothing like my cropped pics on Facebook where I appear slimmer. But the good thing is that we got over it and now laugh about that day at the V&A.” – Ringo Sikani (25)
RELATED: 5 ways that social media complicates dating life
“She turned out not to be a yellow-bone”
“I once met this girl on Facebook sometime last year. She was a pretty yellow-bone on her profile picture. We agreed to meet at a bar in Long Street. I arrived there first. Some girl came to me, and called my name. It was her but I could not recognise her because her skin tone was different. I did not know whether to laugh or cry. She looked like she experimented with make-up, her dark neck stood out from her yellow face. Long story short, our date did not last long. Disturbed, I politely came up with an excuse that I had to be somewhere. I later blocked her on my FB.” – Anonymous (25)
“His shoe game, though”
“I met this West African guy online. He was so fine in his picture. He looked like an African-American R&B star, you know s-curls and stuff. We agreed to meet at the Philippi train station and decided that we would go chill at his house. I imagined those dark strong arms around me while my Igwee fed me fufu. When I arrived at the station, the man I saw was not the guy I stalked online. It’s not about how he looked, but it was his shoe game that turned me off. He was now wearing huge unpolished safety boots, amaquza. He waved at me saying, “Here I am my mama”. He looked embarrassed. I immediately climbed back up the stairs because I was so humiliated.” – Anonymous (23)
Photography by Onele Liwani