An unwanted adventure & my first experience with Tinder

One of the guys had somehow racked up 230 matches. He sent one of his matches a message that read, “Hit me up with them digits gurl” and it worked. She hit him up. He decided to enlighten me to his “pulling” method, which only leads to me being more scarred than anything. He figures that most girls on Tinder are 1) good to go but also 2) constantly hit on because of the app’s popularity.

To whom it may concern,

This week like most has not disappointed me as far as entertainment goes. It started off with a traumatic mini-adventure. Having had a reasonably tame weekend, if you don’t count the particularly rowdy family night that definitely included some Sporcle Cricket trivia, I made a last minute decision to go out for St. Patrick’s Day! And after enduring a particularly long lecture I hopped on a bus at a bus stop I’d been utilising for the last 3 years. Till Monday any bus I’d gotten on always went via Newmarket to its destination. Turns out some of them just go straight to Otahuhu and I’d just been really lucky till that point. With my 10minutes journey home having turned into an hour long bus ride beside a scowling, moustached lady with mutton-chops that’d put most of the men I know to shame, I was in absolutely no mood to celebrate St. Patrick’s day. But like every good student of procrastination, I pulled myself up by the boot straps, donned my token green piece of clothing and headed over to my mate Tom’s place.

It was here that a few of the relatively sober guys decided to educate me on their experience with Tinder. For those of you above the age of “cool” and the technologically challenged Tinder is an app that syncs a few Facebook photos of choice, allows you to create a Bio of yourself and links you with fellow singles of your selected age-range in your vicinity. If you find that someone’s photo and bio to tingles your loins you swipe right and if you don’t, left. If they also find you to be the Cat’s Meow, tinder will “match” you up and you can chat to them.

One of the guys had somehow racked up 230 matches. He sent one of his matches a message that read, “Hit me up with them digits gurl” and it worked. She hit him up. He decided to enlighten me to his “pulling” method, which only leads to me being more scarred than anything. He figures that most girls on Tinder are 1) good to go but also 2) constantly hit on because of the app’s popularity. Therefore he figured his slightly “forceful” technique of emulating 50 cent would make a change from the poor lads out their telling these girls they were beautiful. I then learnt of how my friend had so many matches that Tinder allowed him to make folders for them. He’d arranged them in order of hotness to increase efficiency. Fast forward to Friday night when he’d consumed a couple of beers and decided it’d be hilarious to dirty talk to the folder of girls he didn’t care about. Ladies form a line. Tinder can’t all bad, though, a friend’s older brother just moved in with his Tinder match of 5 months so there’s that. Plus abs pics and the guy that photoshopped himself on Miley Cyrus’ body on a cannonball. Keep grindin’ dude your soul mate is a swipe away. But its safe to say being enlightened to this guy’s folder method was a sufficient deterrent to Tinder and life in general.

Anyway, I definitely have an assignment due on Friday and instead have done a completely useless analysis of a dating/”friendship” app (stop lying to yourself).

Wish me luck kids,

Xx

Keth

My torrid love affair and ethnic tolerance

To whom it may concern,

Last night I went out with a couple of my best friends to a 21st celebration over the shore. After working all day, the thought of wearing a tight dress, putting on makeup and travelling for 40minutes to wing-woman at a party where I knew only the 2 girls I was going with was hardly in my top 5 list of things to do on a Friday night. Also because I really want to see the Book Thief. But I’d been a hermit during Summer School and I knew a good boogie would change my mind so that’s exactly what I did.

After making sure the “main girl” looked the hottest, which barely took any effort on account of the fact she looks like a model, we were off. After many a windy road, we pulled up to a long driveway with a large bouncer. The long driveway proved to be useful as her nerves kicked in at the start of the driveway and the sweetheart had to take a couple of hundred deep breaths before she was convinced she was, in fact, going to walk in and say Hi.

Upon entering however it took all of one second for her to pull like a Bawse. That’s how good we are at being wing-women. You should hire us. With our mission completed, we noticed we were on a set worthy of the Kardashians: a DJ playing exactly the right music, a deck that faced a pool, spa and waterfront but the real romance was the tea-candlelit buffet table fit for a King.

Me + pigs in a blanket + Candle light = magical evening. Just when we thought the night could not get any better the host graciously and swiftly put drinks in our hands and this is where things started to go downhill.

In an attempt to stay relatively sober the punch was decided upon to be relatively harmless. Or it would’ve been had we not had the tolerance level of 3 ethnic girls.

While most girls find alcohol boosts confidence and eases conversation I find that it brings out my tipsy alter ego. World, meet Methaki, Meth for short. After ‘Niggas in Parris’ turned to ‘Hyper-paradise’ (Flume remix), which then turned to ‘Miss new Booty’ Methaki was convinced the DJ was her soul mate. Methaki likes to crump, sometimes twerk and let’s not even mention the air-grinding.; Form a line gents. The problem with Methaki is that her equivalent of a hot guy at a gym is a guy with great music taste and intelligence (?) Cue further infatuation with DJ who was actually quite good looking. But Methaki, much like Kethaki can’t just walk up to a guy and have a decent conversation. No no. Methaki chooses to remain “dancing” while making predator-eyes at her target. Because that’s not creepy. Just when you thought the blatant sexual tension could no longer heighten, on came ‘Get low’. Methaki took this as a sign that she was now in a long-term relationship with the DJ.

Luckily for her, she has 2 amazing best friends who kept her from further embarrassing herself. I’m pleased to inform you that Methaki draws the line at “droppin’ it low”, most likely because she’s never drunk enough to forget that getting back up requires leg and core muscle that she is yet to acquire. So, guys, I’m afraid to say I’m off the market and dating a DJ…He just doesn’t know it. Minor Hiccup.

Xx

Keth/Meth