Tag Archives: Tinder

Hal the ladies’ man

Feminism is dead, strangers in New York, ,

As a new full-time freelancer, I recently made a coffee shop down the street my part-time office. It’s usually a pretty low-key experience, but you do start to see the same weirdos popping in there.

My favorite (read: nemesis), whom I will call Hal, is a man is his sixties. I’m not sure what Hal’s line of work is, but I do know that he is now the owner of an apartment, because he bought it in the coffee shop the other day. As in, he made his realtor come to the coffee shop and formally, loudly concluded escrow.
I also know the Hal is in the market for a female companion who enjoys “sexual recreation” above all other extracurricular activities. That’s because he was explaining this to a fellow customer whom I can only presume was a stranger to him. He’s had some positive experiences on Tinder, but finds that many women want to go out to restaurants and do things outside of the house. In other words, they want to go on dates. Hal, on the other hand, prefers to hang out in the bedroom, because that’s where he shines. He takes pleasure in “bedroom activities” above “outside activities.”
So, ladies, if you’re interested, I’m sure I can set something up. Chances seem solid that Hal will be a big part of my life in the coming weeks and months.

Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver: Weirdos Abroad part I

Strangers outside of New York, Tourists, Weirdos Abroad, , , ,

Hello dear readers and welcome to a very special series I’m calling “Weirdos Abroad.” While traveling in Iceland recently, I was reminded that sometimes traveling Americans are even more annoying than those who are being obnoxious domestically. In each part of this series, I’ll examine an individual or individuals who made me embarrassed that I share their nationality.

We’ll start with a trip to the Blue Lagoon. The bus ride took around an hour, but it felt like five years due to two people sitting behind my friend and me. I’ll call them Bill and Sally. Bill and Sally are probably in their late fifties. They are not married to each other; Sally’s husband was not present, and Bill was Tindering the whole ride. How do I know this? Because they never stopped talking.

Bill had long sideburns and a soul patch, a look that was popular before my birth and attractive never. Throughout the ride, he frequently referenced his many dates and informed his traveling companion that she would be his wing man.

Sally is from the Midwest. If possible, she likes to talk even more than Bill. She narrated our whole trip.

“Look, it’s moss,” she exclaimed. “I wonder where it all comes from?”

“And now it’s raining,” she noted.

At this point I turned to my friend. “I will give them $10 to stop talking for five minutes.”

She didn’t think that would go over well.

“I think I’m going to bed early tonight,” Sally said at one point. I got it. Her vocal cords were probably raw.

“You can’t,” Bill wailed. “You’re going to be my wing man.”

“The only people who get my humor are children, old people, and East Coasters,” Bill said.

“I hate East Coasters,” Sally said.

My friend and I, born, raised, and currently residing on the East Coast, shared a look.

We were lucky enough to end up on the same bus as Bill and Sally on the way back. Before getting on the bus, Bill stopped a young Asian woman.

“Do. You. Speak. Eng-lish?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Where is this bus going?”

She looked at him, shrugged, and walked away.

Bill shook his head at Sally. “She didn’t understand me.”