Colombian Nights

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.

….6 notifications.

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 ;)’

…

27 new notifications

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.

-CN

**

Follow Casey Nordbak as he waxes philosophically on his blog

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