This one is more unpleasant than usual. It reads like a guest post by Tom Arrows, but it’s me, Nikolai. Your normally cheerful and exuberant narrator.
Wandering in the mountains I often have good ideas. One such idea struck me upon a picturesque bend in the road, decorated with a giant, shady stand of bamboo and a gnarled, leafless, near-dead tree. I thought, what if I was walking to my execution? That next crossroads, twenty minutes away – that’s where my firing squat is waiting. I am Read More
9:06pm Me: Can you come over tomorrow
9:26pm Her: I wanna take a break
9:26pm Her: A long break
10:07pm Me: Ok
And we’re done.
What was the stoush that led up to this? Nothing. Our last communication was about the passionfruit she gave me. I had failed to invite her over all weekend, though. Before that she asked if I wanted to travel with her to Thailand and I said I was too busy. The last time I saw her we got along fine and she came once or twice, not that it’s important. Then this.
Yet it was not entirely a bolt from the blue. I suspect it was a Read More
Note the plesiosaur in the background. Image from Wikipedia.
If you’re an old fart like me you would have once called up a young lady on the home phone. Her dad would answer and he would stir you a bit before he put her on. If ethnic he would just hang up. You would talk to the girl for about five minutes and then get to the point of nervously asking her to a movie or party. She would accept or decline. Then you’d go ask if you could borrow the car. You’d pick her up after making polite conversation with her parents. Her mum would ask what you’re studying and her dad would want to know Read More
I’m dating a girl. She’s twenty-five.
I asked her as a joke how many times she’s been married. She said, ‘Married? That’s something I’ll think about when I’m, like, thirty.’
I said nothing.
I could have said a lot.
Being well into my thirties myself, I’ve dated many women who have passed the dreaded three-oh. Pretty much all of them had the same plan. In their twenties they would travel the world, find themselves, spend all their money and have amazing experiences like Read More
I’m not good at lying. I’m not even terribly good at telling the truth. If I think my interlocutor doubts my word I get flustered and stuttery just as though I really were lying. So as for actual lies, I try to avoid them. If I know I am likely to need to protect someone from the truth, i.e. when a girl asks about Read More
I’d met many, many girls online but this was my first, daring trial of Tinder debauchery. Swiping an image without considering any other qualities, meeting at short notice and, if all goes well, freely exchanging bodily fluids – why hadn’t I tried it years ago?
I got many matches but they usually failed to message back, probably because they were just after attention and weren’t serious to start with. Isabella was different. She replied immediately and in a few minutes we’d Read More
“Did you change?” she asked. “When you lived in that country?” I’d stayed there five years.
“Yeah,” I smirked. “I used to be nice.”
“But really, your personality, or your thinking, did it change?”
It was hard to answer because my first, glib response had been the plain truth. Read More