I met Sober Jake Jackoff in a chat forum for metalheads, of which I was not one, but I was writing for underground music magazines and if you interview people like Joey Shithead and Thor you will eventually find yourself in strange places.
I opened my OkCupid inbox to find a kid in Top Gun shades calling me by my first name. “Is that you?” he asked. Being recognized on an online dating site felt a bit like my dreams of being naked in public. My instinct is to cover myself up but I know it’s too late; all my wobbly bits have been exposed to a street full of strangers in the harsh light of day.
When I met Harley, I was in love with someone else. I was always in love with someone else; a guy who made poor life choices and strung me along like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Names would change, but scenarios remained the same. This was what I was into. Needless to say, unrequited loving wasn’t exactly productive or beneficial in any way that mattered (read: between the sheets) so I took to online dating for more substance – if you can believe that.
Andrea Loewen is the author of The Receptionist, a blog that highlights her love of cats, photoshopping Ryan Gosling into her life, feminist musings, and other daily life inspirations. While no longer a receptionist, she is currently a theatre geek who met her soon-to-be common law partner on Tinder… after growing up Menonnite. Here she talks about a life that has taken a very different path since that purity pledge as a teenager…
The restaurant gleamed in chrome and crystal. Laughter and chatter droned noisely above the dozen white, round top tables where expensive taste could be seen from across the room. We were dressed casually, too casually. The server was decidedly put off by us; you could tell, even against the downturn of severe features that appeared to be cleaved from a long history of distaste. But his lack of positive attitude was redeemed in the sartorial confidence of a three-piece suit, shiny brown brogues, and slicked back hair that complimented an angular, clean-shaven face. Only in the city do servers look like movie stars. The tropical fish bobbed in the tank beside us, little mouths kissing out at us from behind the glass. We were out of place, but Joseph was pure cocky confidence, which to me appeared as a kind of transparent bravado – like someone waving his hands in the air at a bear in an attempt to scare it off.