by Casey Nordbak
The only thing I know about my life is that I don’t want to live it normally- that’s how I ended up in Colombia.
It helps to have an equally impractical buddy ready to take these leaps with you. Jack gives me a call.
“Hey, man, want to move down to Colombia in a few months?”
Luckily I was already unemployed at the time, so it was a no-brainer. Fast forward two months and we’re touching down in beautiful Bogota.
Now, my plan was to work on my book and build a website during my time here in Bogota- so, naturally, Jack and I spent the time chasing tail.
There’s something about having a dick that makes life a pain in the ass. From a rational standpoint I know I don’t want to waste time on thots– I have goals, and dreams; I want to leave some mark on the world.
Unfortunately my dick has veto power. Tinder is downloading.
But I still have my principles- so I decided to take a different approach. No more juvenile, focus-grouped responses; it was time to treat these women like people. Get to know em, ya know? See if there’s a connection, something real, something that could last longer than a night.
I decided to only message women I actually saw some potential in.
‘Hey, I liked your profile- I love hiking too. What’s up?’
And so on.
I sat on the couch nursing my shattered ego and began to question whether this was the right approach. With a bruised ego and a need for female validation, the choice was clear.
Time for the assembly line intro:
‘You look like trouble ;)’
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You’ve gotta be kidding me.
As I shed a hypocritical tear over the fallen state of the world, Jack was working his black magic. He was smart enough not to take these women seriously.
He found a girl. She has friends.
Time to hit the club.
Now, make no mistake: I’m an awful dancer. Not even alcohol can fix that. It can, however, make me not care.
One charmingly-awkward night later and I met a girl named Sofia. We danced; she rolled her eyes as I tripped over my feet. I got her number and kissed her on the cheek; for a repressed prude like me, the ultimate turn on.
You know, maybe I was too quick to judge the dating world. Maybe there is hope out there- that I can find a girl who hasn’t become jaded and cynical in this Darwinian dating scene.
Looking to share the good news, and let’s be honest brag a bit, I looked for Jack.
“Hey Jack, you know Sofia?” I asked.
“Yeah man, she’s cute. Too bad she’s got a boyfriend.”
…You’ve gotta be kidding me.
Well, the right thing to do- the thing a man of character would do- is end it then and there. I’m not a home wrecker.
The next day Jack texts me.
“Hey, man, my girl and Sofia want to grab drinks tomorrow night. You in?”
“Sure.” (Dick exercised veto power. Cue rationalizations.)
Sophia began that night grinding on me…
…And I ended the night politely yelling that she should wait for her taxi across the street. Turns out she did have a boyfriend. Ah well.
Bzzz! Jack’s got a text from Sofia’s boyfriend.
“Its weird, I don’t really know what his text means,” Jack says.
“What does it say?” I ask.
“Uhh… her boyfriend said: ‘tell your mate, if I see him, he’s dead.’”
After a quick discussion about whether or not Jack could tell what that meant, I couldn’t help but laugh at the shit show that is modern dating culture. Or maybe the shit show that is me; hard to say.
I knew I wanted to avoid all this the moment my plane touched down. I knew that my goal was to grind away writing my book. Yet here we are. For all my pretensions to rationality, I can’t seem to act past instinct.
Is this why we were put here? To live a life of flippant hedonism? I don’t know. I’d like to think we have a higher calling, and that we should spend our time giving to the world rather than taking from it.
Bit naive; most people will keep swiping.
As for me: I’ll be praying to God to shut off my libido for a year. Maybe then I can get some work done.
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