I have a certain amount of self-interest at stake when it comes to People Dating People Who Travel. I travel an awful lot and would like to date attractive men (or at least men who smell OK and like to talk about subjects other than football): ipso facto, I logically hope that attractive men find my stories about Komodo dragons, Cambodia, and oddly-advised drinking choices in India are alluring, or at least amusing.
However, I just read this piece, entitled “Date a Boy Who Travels.” And now I’m worried. Worried that I am the earnest, boring-story telling, pain-in-the-butt who wears Angkor beer t-shirts in perfectly respectable US bars.
Am I the horrendous female equivalent of this supposedly sexy manchild the piece describes in prose lifted from a compilation of Chicken Soup for the Travelers Soul? Is this me? I hate that guy!
“Buy him a beer, maybe the same brand that he wears on the singlet under his plaid shirt, unable to truly let go.”
Specifically, I hate this guy.
I became worried about my own welfare when I read this paragraph:
“He’ll squeak like an excited toddler when his latest issue of National Geographic arrives in the mail. Then he’ll grow quiet, engrossed, until he finishes his analysis of every photo, every adventure. In his mind, he’ll insert himself in these pictures. He’ll pass the issue on to you and grill you about your dreams and competitively ask about the craziest thing you’ve ever done. Tell him. And know that he’ll probably win. And if by chance you win, know that his next lot in life will be to out do you. But then he’ll say, “Maybe we can do it together.”
That’s me, I’ve realized, and as I now admit to the public. I’ve done that before. The National Geographic thing. The craziest-things-you’ve-ever-done thing by way of an icebreaker. Competing with random strangers for WHO’S THE MOST EXTREME, lubricated by a few…wait for it…exotic Angkor beers. I am this person. Well, perhaps more cynical. I am the World Traveling Cynic.
But still, I am this person.
I think I even own some version of the outfits those douchey tanned European girls in the picture attached to the article are wearing.
To wantonly paraphrase Nietzsche, I have stared into the Lonely Planet abyss….and it is staring back at me. To an extent.
Perhaps if applied to me, the article title should be amended. It should be “Date A Girl Who Travels But Is Really Cynical About It, Because She’ll Never Ask You To Do Yoga And You Won’t Have To Talk About How Sunsets Make You ”
”Feel.”’
Or “Date A Journalist Girl Who Travels So You Can Both Sit At Bars And Sneer At Backpackers Approximately Your Own Age, While You Both Read Difficult And Horrifyingly Dry Political Science Books.”
Even: “Date A Girl Who Travel-Writes So You Can Expense Account Stir-Fried Ants And Complain A Lot For Pay.”
Gentlemen?
Don’t rush all at once.
This sounds like a pretty good deal to me, but I’d probably forgo the political science books, I sort of exhausted my personal interest in that subject a long time ago. I prefer fiction. Oh, and I’m older than a backpacker, but I look younger than my age and act even younger than that. The rest of it sounds awesome though, especially the expense account.
Well that made me laugh, because although we have never dated, we have in fact traveled together, and we have sat together in bars and sneered at backpackers, a time or two. Trust me, guys, it’ll be worth your while — even if you can’t get your hands on that expense account.
I’m with you on the “don’t rush all at once” advice to guys. And I think the guy this piece “Date a Boy Who Travels” is a hell of a good fiction with some reality sighs in it from time to time. Liz Gilbert wouldn’t do any better.
Well that guy does exist. I guess everyone who’s been to a few dozen countries fits the description to some extent. But thank God for cynicism. I’ve met a few guys who were insufferably full of themselves for having traveled extensively and for having spent time partaking in the daily lives of people in developing countries. They were not doing those people any good. Nothing wrong with seeing the world’s wonders and going back home to comfortable ways of life. But that doesn’t make you a better person, I think. Based on some people I’ve met, those who’ve traveled around the world, seen all the beauty AND the suffering but still managed to keep their romanticized, superficial view about the “exotic” places they’ve been to are in no way admirable.