My Last Five Dates
When the pandemic hit, I hadn’t dated anyone since the previous October, when my blink-and-you-miss-it “relationship” with a woman in an open marriage ended in my being dumped via Facebook Messenger on their wedding anniversary. I had been living in Thailand, and by the time March rolled around, I was completely over my life there. But mass lockdowns and travel bans put a stop to any repatriation plans I might have conjured up.
Staying in Thailand during those beginning months of COVID-19 turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Holed up in a traditional house in the backwoods of Chiang Mai, I set out to put all my newfound universe-imposed free time to good use. I taught myself how to ride a motorbike, whipped up viral TikTok recipes (Dalgona coffee anyone?), and took on other quirky alone-time hobbies like bullet journaling. I made good use of my time, if I do say so myself, but when I lay down at night, I couldn’t shake this feeling that seemed to be growing steadily inside of me: I wanted some dick.
So I set out to find some.
