Questions in the hot tub
I was relaxing in the hot tub in my gym on Thursday evening, when I overheard the following conversation between my two tubmates, an elderly white man and a young black man.
– Where are you from?
– Nigeria, originally, but I’ve lived here for years
– Oh, is that right? Nigeria! [long pause] What would the weather be like in Nigeria at the moment?
– Well, Nigeria is a big country, but it’s very hot in my city at the moment.
-Is that right? Very hot? What about September? What’s the weather like in September?
-It’s hot in September too, but it gets rainy then.
-Rain? In Africa? Are you serious? It gets rainy in September. Rain! [He says “rain” about another 20 times before breathing in and asking:] And what would the weather be like in October?
Questions in an interview
As I wrote in my last post, I have no paid work in September and I’m battling to keep the wolf from the door. I’ve been applying for all kinds of things, including a freelance CELTA course for a month in London. I did three 40-minute Skype interviews for this four-week job on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings last week. I was asked very, very detailed questions about how I do the course.
I didn’t feel I could Skype in the office where my current employers are. Nor did I feel I could Skype in my hostel bedroom with my bunkmates wandering around in their boxers. So I spent three evenings last week in my car in a car-park, telling people who were far less qualified than me what I do in my Functional Language session and how I think teaching practice timetables should be structured.
They wrote to me on Friday, telling me that they’d hired someone they’d already had in mind before I applied. I guess they felt I had nothing better to do with my evenings than give them ideas for how to improve a course I won’t be working on.
So I’m applying for all kinds of things. I’m very qualified and experienced. For someone who bums around a lot, I have a hefty CV. I’ll find something. And I’ll be great at it. Watch this space.
Questions on “those” apps
This is the NSFW bit. You have been warned.
I’ve been spending more time on Grindr, Scruff, Growlr etc recently. It’s summer and that’s the season when I appear to go into heat. Here are some selections from questions I have been asked/things I have been told on these and other apps in the last two weeks – all transcribed verbatim:
“Like a hairy arse?” – this was after the gentleman had already sent me three photos of said hairy arse. If you’re interested, I don’t have strong feelings on hairy arses one way or another.
“I wouldn’t mind meeting your thighs.” – this was in response to my genuine suggestion that we should meet. I guess he didn’t want to meet me, just to meet my thighs.
“Do you sit to pee?”
“I’ll lick your folds clean once I’ve pumped you with cream.”
“U wanna suck me lad tonight?” – this was the greeting. No hello. Straight down to business.
“Connor you must have one huge hole!?” – again, this was a greeting. No dilly dallying there either.
“Ur a horny looking lad” – I’m really not. I genuinely can’t think of a worse description for me.
“I’m in Dublin Sunday 21st and meeting a big chubby friend. We are looking for another chub to play with us. We are both versatile and love to bareback.” – barebacking means having sex without a condom. I didn’t know this man’s name and had only ever exchanged “how are you?” type messages with him until I got this invitation. I didn’t take it up. The invitation. Or anything else.
“I want to roll all over you.” – oh good. Because that’s what every boy dreams of. Being rolled over.
“You’re a cute hot little meatball” – erm, OK. Thanks, I guess.
THIS IS NOT ROMANCE AS MY TEENAGE YEARS WATCHING DAWSON’S CREEK LED TO EXPECT. You have failed me, popular culture.