Tourist Town

I am hanging for the summer. Ah, the beach. Ah, less clothes. What? These things go together? Tourist Town puts up its heels for the tourists. This place is like anywhere else in the city during winter. Just colder.

Have you seen the smiles per hour signs? A volunteer supposedly counts the amount of smiles that pass them in the street. My local is one smile per hour. That does not surprise me. Some weeks ago, a reasonably attractive girl approached me and stood in my way. I tried to move around her but she blocked me. I stopped her spiel as it was obvious she was selling something. I said, “Nobody talks to you around here unless they want cigarettes or money. You had better work on your approach.” She replied like a five year old, “I would offer cigarettes to anybody who asked.” Subtext – ‘Yes I am selling something. You should stop and listen to me.’ At that moment, a passing chap of about 25 stopped and chimed in, “Oh OK. I’ll have a cigarette then.” He was quite a prankster. I used that moment to duck away from my unwelcome assailant. I turned around after a few paces. He got his cigarette and left with a smile. We had made a complete fool of her.

I liken the street situation to being on a crowded train. Any eye contact is unwanted and every effort shall be made to avoid it. However, this is a winter story my friends. In summer, I am happy to say “Nah” in a loud voice at ten paces. I keep walking, happy in my avoidance. I like to read how far off in the distance people are sizing others up. It’s fun to dismantle their approach at the beginning. It heightens my mood. It is a moving mosaic. In winter, as a generalisation, I do not want to be forced into unwanted contact. It bugs me. The eyes are creepy, and waiting longer. I hate it. It could simply be that there are less people. It could be that there are more, and I hate to say it, locals. I accept that we will see more ‘partially moneyed’ tourists, paying to get over here. That does not diminish my point.

Tourists, as another generalisation, want to ask directions. Actually make small talk for non-material purposes. They smile more. This brings me to my second point, ppl - the tourist girls. To continue my generalisation, these girls do not judge by the company one keeps. I must have heard at least five times, “You are so brave/cool for being out by yourself. Back home in (insert European country or city here) I would never go out alone.” I have never once heard this or a related comment from a local girl. I would expect only dismissive silence. I question whether this attitude is counterproductive. Sure, it weeds out the creeps with no friends. Even the concept of a creep with no friends I find to be ridiculous. He would have to be the most socially malnourished person of all time. I’m actually quite tired of having to organise drinks with boys with the express purpose of ditching them after a few hours. It’s a stupid hoop that I think we are forced through. I know a few girls who are tired of their girlfriends doing it to them also. Who wins?

The two strands of summer and tourist girls now collide. In summer the tourists flock to the fair beachside havens. Last summer, I made a conscious decision to avoid local girls (whom I hadn’t met) – except at parties when there was a mutual friend, ‘social proofing’. It was my best summer. What is wrong with this picture? Probably nothing, it’s nature. I haven’t done much travelling. Some mates rave on and on about the overseas girls. They are talking a language I now understand. The differences are the assumptions made by the girls. A male tourist is an assumed open book. A stranger from nearby has less to offer. I now laugh and say you can save by going to Tourist Town. The tourists have come to you.

Written 18th Sept 2009
Donate your now worthless crypto to Igroki

ETH 0x31e0da9a8f3083ecbcba7d941d0a6e394ccf657b

LTC M85Q9RxzRZcDjYk8U72rnqhHyCVG3yZVdz

XRP rPvKH3CoiKnne5wAYphhsWgqAEMf1tRAE7?dt=5407

Big Deal