Dating show based in alaska
Some of the guys who approached me were goblins; I regularly turned down the five-fingered grandpa — that’s five fingers total — who constantly asked me for a blow job whenever I drank at a particular downtown bar, and I practically ran away from a man who had the stringy baldness of a young Riff Raff from the Rocky Horror Picture Show when he sidled up and asked me if I had any communicable diseases as his opening line.
But most of them were just genuine guys trying their luck, which encouraged me to try my luck, too.
In short turn, I soon realized that if I wanted to meet guys in Alaska, all I had to do was go outside.
While it’s no longer true that there are more men than women in Alaska by a ratio of two-to-one, the skewed gender ratio might have played a small part in the fact that I was able to pull so much.
I assumed my romantic life in Alaska would continue the same way it had everywhere else I lived — sparse and unexciting.
I’m not great with math, but I think that in an area where there are even slightly more men to choose from, your chances of boning a few of them tend to go up exponentially.
I got to Alaska the way most people do: Through personal trauma and a series of questionable decisions.
Welcome to “It’s Complicated,” a week of stories on the sometimes frustrating, sometimes confusing, always engrossing subject of modern relationships.