Tag: #dating

Overheard in LA: Two Men and a Lyft

A lot of people come to LA for people watching, but people are more than their looks, so I would like to offer “conversation listening” as a new reason to visit the city.


Whilst eating a fried chicken sandwich in a shop that sells fried chicken sandwiches and donuts in the shape of narwhals:

“You know, it is very LA, the relationship, she is very pretty, but doesn’t give me anything else” *

*Said by man who is, mysteriously, still in a relationship


Whilst in a bar, deciding whether to order a drink:

“Dating is hard in LA, it’s hardest for straight men – because women here, they don’t want to be in a relationship – they feel like they are giving up something”

“What do you think they think they are giving up?” (The guy was talking to me)

“Their careers, their cars…(I forget this bit)…but really men are meant to be Gods, we are meant to build castles for Goddesses, and then fill those castles.”*

*Said by man who is a self-proclaimed “really good boyfriend”

Late Night:

Whilst trying to find my Lyft driver,

“I’m across from the Denny’s”*

*LA: a city that comes with new points of references

Hitch Hiking: The Tinder of Transport OptionsĀ 

“Hitch hiking is so safe in New Zealand, everyone does it” says, just about everyone. 

Yesterday, three 3 Non Blondes (of the non musical variety) wrote up some signs and stood by the side of the road. 

Tactics weren’t really discussed – we just stuck our thumbs out (cautiously at first) and smiled. Some people smiled at us, but no one stopped. It was like being swiped left in real time, people glanced at us, didn’t even look at our profiles and decided to keep going. Clearly, our outfits, what we’ve deemed, “Rape Prevention Kits” were working too well: no one wanted to pick up three women in cargo pants and non Lululemon exercise gear.

We laughed off being rejected, but began to question ourselves when a blonde hitch hiker gave us some side eye when we said we had been waiting 20 mins, as though that was an inconceivable amount of time. Note: we can also put the 20 mins down to the fact that there were three of us, and for the first half an hour, we were ambitious and held up a sign asking to be driven an hour away (turns out no one on their way to work wanted to drive to a glacier instead).

It was time to change tactics, be a little less hard to get, so we changed the sign to “Roy’s Peak”, a mere 7km away, basically the equivalent of changing a dating profile from “I am a princess, earn my love” to, “I love dive bars”. 

Once again we were thwarted by a second blonde (wearing shorts) who also laughed when we said we had been there for 30mins, and promptly picked up a ride within 5 mins. 

Embarrassed, we started walking and just hoped that someone would take pity on us, as with all dating, our standards had gone down, it was like 4am at the end of the night and basically we would have gotten into any kind of sketch camper van. 

Miraculously, finally, a very nice travelling Melbourner, took pity on us, picked us up in his very acceptable four door sedan rental car and drove us to the start of the 16km walk. 

Lesson: there is a lid for every pot, and the lid will come around when it’s good and ready.

Blatantly Hitting on Someone Without Having a Clue

Handy tip: of you want someone to follow you around for a bit, especially in a slightly creepy way, upon introduction to said person, just say “hi, (I hear you’re jumping on our bus), you’re very attractive, don’t laugh, it’s empirically true and you know it – see those boys over there….” 

The rest of the introduction (a nefarious plan to give the boys on our bus some competition) bypasses their brain completely and all you’re left with is a guy who thinks you think they are attractive. 

Should I have known better? Probably. Definitely. But now I get to make excuses as though I am in a hair commerical, “well, must go brush my teeth…”, “Been wearing the same clothes for too long, really must do laundry”, “couldn’t possibly tonight, must look for my passport” 

delayed lessons in adulting…

Pity the Fool…

I just started a 3 week overland tour from Johannesburg to Cape Town. 
Our crew are super cute (and if we become Facebook friends and they ever read this, I’ll be mortified). 

Last night they called themselves the A-Team, I then said that they needed names- who was Murdoch, Face, Hannibal (there was only one choice for Me. T, our driver was forced into it)

Five seconds later we discovered that while they had seen the series, not one them were actually born in the 80s. 
So, when you date yourself by talking about the A-Team, you really do date yourself because there is simply no one your age left.

No, I Will Not Fall In Love With A Poacher

A co-worker had spent the last couple of weeks of December saying, “I bet you’re going to fall in love with a poacher” (you know who you are), “like you’re not going to know he is a poacher, still…” I tried to give so much side-eye that I thought my eyes would fall off my face.

Cut to Friday, we walk across the path to the bar, and outside there is a Mad Max looking vehicle (unfortunately did not have my camera, but it was a jeep with a hunting seat mounted on the back). My first thought was “who owns the Mad Max vehicle?”, Not putting together that it was for hunting, I was hoping it was more for observing…Or hoping that they had secretly started filming the next Mad Max and maybe Tom Hardy had escaped from set and ran away to our little watering hole. 

I pushed through the doors and came upon a gentleman smoking a cigar, wearing a safari shirt, shorts and one of those old leather safari vests, if he didn’t look so German/ possibly related to Trump, and poacher-ish, it might have looked like a scene from a Vogue, “Back to Africa” shoot. 

I sat at a bar, ordered a rum and coke, which comes as a shot of rum and a bottle of coke. He picked up my coke and said “Shall I poor for you?” Had I accidentally gotten in a time machine and travelled back to 1910? Was someone from NBC’s  Timeless going to show up and make me sign a release?

I asked about his vehicle, and he proceeded to tell me about shooting jackals: farmers call him with a jackal problem and he comes out, chases them down, and then shoots them. Side note – I am sure they are pests, but I feel like there needs to be a better way….

“Must remove myself from situation before I become attracted to semi-poacher and make coworker correct” I thought, politely saying that I had a pool game to go lose. (Second side note, it would have taken a lot of rum to find him attractive)

Safe for now, you know who you are….