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12 things you'll experience in Korea

Photo: thomas park

1. Cracked-out soju pigeons

Korea’s known for its vibrant drinking culture. They claim they can drink all night because they do so while eating and playing games. There seems to be a hole in this philosophy: namely, the unconscious people and piles of upchuck — or pigeon breakfast — I step over on my way to work in the morning. Party-going pigeons love to feast on these soju-soaked puddles of vomit until they’re wasted, twitchy, and slamming into walls.

2. Ajummas

An ajumma is technically a married woman, but the word is really reserved for a specific type of the 50+ crowd. Anyone who’s visited Korea can spot these beloved national icons by their short purple perms, unusually large sun visors, floral pants, rubber shoes, sturdy stature, aggressive nature, and near super-human strength. They’re often spotted carrying large sacks of produce. I imagine in the city they hoist refrigerators over their shoulders.

2b. The ajumma scrub-down

Two types of ajummas man the sauna. The ajummas in beige granny undies and thick-strapped bras keep the shower area tidy, while the sexy ajummas in black scour you on a plastic table with a cheese grater and a garden hose as your skin falls off and piles on the ground.

As you lie there naked, next to a bunch of other naked people also being peeled*, you might wonder why this seemed like a pleasant way to spend your Saturday, or you might be totally into it. No judgment. If you already have the smooth alabaster skin of a Victorian virgin, you should be alright. If you have freckles like me, you’re screwed. Or like my African American friend who said they tried to scrub the “black” off.

* Man readers, you too can experience this at the ridiculously strong hands of an ajusshi (male ajumma) in a beige nappie.

3. Pretty men

Grown men sporting fuzzy kitten sweaters, non-ironically, and clutching pencil cases that say things like: “Butterflies play among the flowers.” “I love cookie.” If you like your men more “meow” than “grrrrrrowl,” this is the country for you.

4. Dong chim

I’ve been poked up the butt by small children and the occasional adult more times than I’d like to count. This may seem like inappropriate behavior to some, but in Korea it’s a fun game. How it works: The child clasps his fingers together with index and middle fingers pointing out. He then tries to insert them briskly into your anal region while you’re not looking.

“Dong chim!” Translation: poop house. Sometimes they’ll come at you from the front. I find the vaginal poke even more inappropriate. But maybe that’s just me.

5. The best food you’ve never heard of

Gamjatang
Daktoritang
Manduguk
Samgyeopsal
Dak galbi
Galbijjim
Kimchi jeon
Ddeokbokki

Heard of these? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Most people can’t locate Korea on a map*, let alone name a single Korean food. A part of me wants to keep this delicious little multiple foodgasmic secret to myself, but I’m getting a little tired of constantly being asked, “So did you eat Fido?” As if that’s the only thing on the menu.

* Before you get your knickers in a knot, I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about those other geographically challenged numskulls, the ones who still think I’m talking about North Korea.

6. Beach season

Beach season is for a month sometime between mid-July to mid-August. If the weather is gorgeous in June, and you think it might be nice to take a refreshing dip, think again. Three cop cars, a fire truck, and a rescue boat full of recovery divers will turn up to ‘rescue’ you from the beautiful June weather and calm blue seas. It’s not beach season, moron.

7. Hiking

Koreans love hiking. What they love even more than hiking is dressing to go hiking. They’ve got all the goods: North Face jackets, argyle knee socks, spring-loaded walking sticks, heat-activated gloves, spiky shoe boots, more North Face stuff, you get the idea. Don’t worry if you don’t look the part, they understand you’re a foreigner and find your ignorance amusing.

Enjoy the hike. It’s more like walking slowly in a large herd along a gently sloping and well-trodden path, but whatever. If that’s not enough of a workout for you, stop at one of the many outdoor gymnasiums and swivel your hips on a metal disc like the super-serious elderly man on the disc next to yours. Afterwards, he’ll share his seaweed rice rolls (aka kimbap) and soju with you. It’s like the trail mix and water of Korean hiking.

8. Fan death

I’m not talking about the kind of fans who get stompled* at a Justin Bieber concert. I’m talking about those potentially deadly wind-blowing devices used to cool oneself on a hot summer’s night.

I learned about their deadliness my first year in Korea. My boss had called me into his office to warn me that my fan was plotting to kill me in my sleep. After many discussions on the subject, this is what I’ve come to understand: In a closed space, over the course of a night, the fan will create a wind tunnel that will suck the oxygen from the air so you suffocate and die. My modern Korean friends laugh at the notion…but their fans all have timers.

* Yes, it’s a word.

9. Toasty floors

Koreans heat their homes through their floors; it’s called ondol. Basically, your entire apartment floor turns into one giant heating pad. Returning home on a blustery cold winter’s night, I pretty much belly flop on the floor and stay down till spring. Bonus: Korea doesn’t do dryers, so in the winter you can lay your wet laundry on the floor to dry. If you’re one of those people who always throws your clothes on the floor anyway, well, it’s a win win.

Warning: My friend was babysitting a couple guinea pigs and she accidentally left the cage on the floor and the heater running while she went to Seoul for the weekend. She returned to roasted guinea pig. She’s still traumatized, and I probably shouldn’t have told you, but I feel it’s my duty to warn you that with the gift of ondol comes much responsibility. I’m like that old dude preaching about my mogwai.

10. The molessage

For my friend’s birthday I got us both molested. I treated her to a Korean massage. Korean massage techniques may differ from what you’re accustomed to. Some of the highlights include: breast jiggling to a chorus of giggles from your ‘masseuse’ and her friends who’ve come to watch and drink coffee, nipple tweaking, kissing the sun tattoo on your ass cheek because it’s so darn cute, and finger probing dangerously close to your nether region.

I felt really bad about the whole thing, but my friend assured me it was the most action she’d had in months. So much like a Shakespearean comedy/tragedy. All’s well that end’s well.

11. Table doorbells

In Korean restaurants, every table comes with a magic button. If you push it a server will instantly appear at your table. If you don’t push it you won’t be bothered. You can push it or not push it as much as you’d like. Why this hasn’t caught on in the US is beyond me.

12. Extreme couple culture

Date night in Korea! Dress in matching clothes down to your matching undies. You’d think the intimate wear would slant toward more of a masculine style; after all, girls look cute in boy shorts. But nope. The men get to look cute in pink bikini bottoms instead.

Head to the local Pizza Hut (this means he really likes you) and order the “couple set.” It involves a heart-shaped pizza, and they’ll even box it up for you with a pretty red ribbon. Nothing says romance like heart-shaped carbs. Next, chew on dried squid while cuddling in the cozy “couple seat” at the cinema. No pesky armrest to impede your blossoming love. Finish the night at Starbucks (he really, really likes you) with perfectly etched foam-heart couple lattes and a slice of cheesecake to split. Revel in your steamy, creamy coupley bliss.

Note: Viewing of the spring cherry blossoms and ice skating are deemed couple activities. In other words, stay home you sad, lonely person.

The post 12 things you’ll only experience in Korea appeared first on Matador Network.

How to piss off someone from Cincinnati

Photo: Steven Gripp

Wear a Reds hat without actually knowing who the Reds are.

I’ve had this conversation countless times:

Me: “Hey, nice hat! Go Reds!”
You: “Huh?”
Me: “Your hat. It’s a Reds hat.”
You: “Oh. I didn’t know that.”
Me: “Then why are you wearing it?”
You: “I like the color red. Also, my name starts with C.”

Turns out, they’re actually probably members of the infamous Bloods street gang. The Bloods’ colors are red, and the “C” is a bit of a poke at their rival gang the Crips. So I’ve stopped talking to strangers wearing Reds hats, which makes life outside the Queen City just a little more lonely.

Knock our chili.

For whatever reason, people always tell me that Cincinnati chili is “not real chili.” Here are the reasons why that is absolutely moronic: First, there’s only one ingredient that must be present for a sauce or stew to be considered chili. That ingredient is chili powder. It can be made of tofu and monkey brains…if it has chili in it, you can call it chili.

Second, Cincinnati chili is not just real chili, it is the realest chili. It is a Platonian form. It is a higher ideal. It is one of those rare spots in the universe where the fabric dividing our plane of existence from heaven’s has been ripped apart by a singularity of deliciousness.

Knock pretty much any of our other food.

Okay, Goetta is an acquired taste. Fair enough. But Zip’s and City View Tavern do amazing burgers, Montgomery Inn’s ribs and sauce are among the best, LaRosa’s pizza is as good as anything outside New York or Chicago, and have you had our beer? My girlfriend (an East Coast native) recently said to me, “When I think of Cincinnati, I think of great beer.” I’ve never been more proud in my entire life.

Tell us Cincinnati sucks after only having been to our airport.

The airport’s in Northern Kentucky, you chode.

Say, “The best part of Cincinnati is in Kentucky/the Ohio River.”

Before I start: There are some pretty cool parts of Northern Kentucky. I’ve had many a good night on Mainstrasse, and I’ve ended many a good night in Newport, particularly at the Hofbrauhaus.

But seriously, bro, fuck yourself. Even without the Banks — which are an addition that didn’t open until after I’d left — there’s a lot of great stuff on the Cincinnati side of the river. Mount Adams can be a little douchey, but the bars are amazing, Over-the-Rhine has MOTR, which might be my favorite bar ever, and Clifton and Northside are both great nights as well.

Tell us Cincinnati is boring.

You’re boring. It’s been about four years since I’ve lived full-time in Cincinnati, and every time I go back — every three to six months — it’s gotten even cooler. Cincinnati is going through a renaissance right now. We’re like the Matthew McConaughey of cities. Yeah, we had our Failure to Launch moment during the 2001 race riots, but now is our True Detective moment. You know, without all the ritualistic murders.

Seriously though, Cincinnati is not remotely boring by any city standard. Just because you’re in the space between the Appalachians and Rockies doesn’t mean everything is boring.

Call us racist.

There was an article series on Gawker a few months back that made the rounds arguing that Cincinnati was either the most racist city in America, or was among the top 5. What was particularly frustrating about it was that all of its “evidence” was anecdotal (from internet commenters no less) except for the 2001 race riots. And the race riots were caused by racial bias and brutality among the police. Which is kind of a thing everywhere.

Look…Cincinnati has a checkered racial history, and there are definitely racists in the area. That’s something that pretty much every city in the country has to deal with, though. Come back to us when you have some real numbers.

Assume you know what it’s like to be a Bengals fan.

Being a Bengals fan — nay, a Cincinnati sports fan period, assuming we’re talking about the post-Big Red Machine era — is like living in that prison pit from The Dark Knight Rises. You can always see the light, and you can just about climb and reach out of the hellhole of despair, but you can never quite make it. It’s like Sisyphus — to impotently watch, year after year, as we come so close, just to lose in the first round of the playoffs every goddamn time…well, it’s a type of frustration that can only be expressed in the form of a deep, guttural moan. Which is pretty hard to type.

So yeah, if your team hasn’t won a Super Bowl in three or four years, I have zero pity for you. You’re just waiting in line for your next turn. I’m living through Groundhog Day.

The post How to piss off someone from Cincinnati appeared first on Matador Network.

World's 25 deadliest peaks [pics]

This year saw the deadliest day ever on Mount Everest, with 16 people — all of them Sherpas — killed in a massive avalanche. And while the world’s tallest mountain has certainly claimed its fair share of mountaineers (the total is over 250 as of this year), it’s generally not considered to be the world’s most difficult mountain to climb.

With some of these peaks, you can see directly why in a photo. “Oh, hey, look at that sheer rock face you have to ascend to get to the top. Yeah, I’m gonna head back to the lodge and get some hot chocolate instead.” Others look deceptively easy to the untrained eye. Some of the following may have a lower death rate than Everest, but it should be noted that far more non-expert climbers are on Everest these days, and that technical difficulty may not translate to more deaths when a mountain is the exclusive domain of experts.

1

Mount Everest
Aside from being the world’s tallest mountain and technically difficult, Everest has a plethora of other problems regarding the crowding of the mountain by climbers. The mortality rate for Sherpas on Everest surpasses those of the US's most dangerous industries, like commercial fishing, mining, and the military.


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2

Mount Fitz Roy
Fitz Roy sits on the border of Patagonian Chile and Argentina and is one of the most technically difficult mountains to summit in the world. You can see why. It’s incredibly steep on all sides leading to the summit, and its weather is unpredictable.


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3

Denali
Due to the accessibility of Denali (or Mount McKinley) and its allure as the tallest mountain in North America, amateurs are frequently drawn to it...and it's a pretty dangerous place for novices. Around 100 have died on Denali.


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Intermission





Climb the granite peaks of Namibia





Climbing and admiring Yosemite





32 photos that prove goats are the world’s best climbers


















4

The Matterhorn
The Matterhorn is visually one of the more striking mountains in the world. You can see why it took so long to climb compared to most of the rest of the Alps. It’s estimated that around 500 have died since the first climb, but it should be noted that, being in the Alps, it was climbed much earlier than most of the Himalayas or the Andes.


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5

Makalu
Makalu (the peak with the sunbeam at the summit) is the fifth-highest mountain in the world and is only 12 miles away from Everest on the Nepal-China border. Part of its previous difficulty was that it took a pretty tough trek to even get to the mountain, but now helicopters are often utilized. At least 32 have died on Makalu, and it's considered, along with K2, one of the hardest of the 14 eight-thousanders to climb.


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6

Mont Blanc
Although Mont Blanc is not technically as difficult as most of the mountains on this list, its position on the tourist-heavy border of France and Italy has made it a popular destination among amateurs, which may be why, according to some estimates, as many as 8,000 people have died climbing it.


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7

K2
K2, the second-tallest mountain in the world, is possibly the most dangerous. For every four successful summit attempts, one person has died. It sits on the border of China and Pakistan and has never been summitted in the wintertime.


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8

Cerro Torre
It’s pretty obvious from the picture why Cerro Torre in Argentine Patagonia is such a difficult climb. The first confirmed summit was in 1974. Talons of sheer rock, the crown of the mountain is made more treacherous by a skin of ice deposited by the ever-blowing winds at the top.


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9

Annapurna
Annapurna in Nepal is, by at least one measure, the most dangerous mountain on the planet. 60 people have died climbing the mountain, and only 157 have successfully summitted it, a ratio of 38%, which is worse than K2. Since 1990, though, another Himalayan mountain, Kangchenjunga, has had a higher death rate. Annapurna’s south face is considered among the most difficult climbs in the world. Pictured above is Annapurna South, which is actually one of the lower and easier peaks in the gigantic Annapurna massif.


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Intermission





50 places you can’t reach without climbing [pics]





The 6 best starter ranges for mountaineering





Scaling and land-sailing in San Juan


















10

The Eiger
The north face of the Eiger has been nicknamed the “Murder Wall” due to the 64 people who've died on the wall alone.


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11

Jannu
Jannu, in the Nepalese Himalayas, is renowned for its technical difficulty, as a lot of the most difficult portions of the climb are over 7,000 meters.

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12

Mount Logan
Mount Logan is one of the "Seven Second Summits," a list that refers to the second-tallest mountain on each continent. Mount Logan in the St. Elias Range in Canada is behind Denali in Alaska. Some of the Seven Second Summits are regarded to be more challenging than the seven tallest summits. Climbing Logan is technically no more difficult than Denali, but because of the mountain's isolation, climbers must make a long trek before they can even start.


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13

Dhaulagiri I
Dhaulagiri I, the seventh-tallest mountain in the world, has an above-average death rate among comparable Nepalese mountains. Between 1950 and 2006, 2.88% of all expedition members who went above basecamp died—a total of 58 fatalities.



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14

Gauri Sankar
Gauri Sankar is next to Melungtse, a treacherous mountain in Tibet. It's slightly shorter, but since it's in Nepal, Sankar's seen more summit attempts. Like Melungtse, it's an extremely technically difficult climb.


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15

Siula Grande
Siula Grande in the Peruvian Andes was made famous through the book Touching the Void, an account of a particularly harrowing ascent (and nightmarish descent) of this peak.


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Intermission





Tribute to climbers Micah Dash, Jonny Copp and Wade Johnson





Strong women rock climbing in Brazil





One chance to climb the Guillotine Flake


















16

Baintha Brakk
Only three expeditions have succeeded in reaching the top of Baintha Brakk, a giant tower in Pakistan’s Karakoram Range. This is because its walls are particularly steep and complex, obstacles compounded by the high altitude. It’s nicknamed “the Ogre.”

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17

Mount Vinson
Mount Vinson isn’t technically that difficult. The problem with it? It’s the tallest mountain in Antarctica. It wasn’t even seen until 1958.


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18

Cerro Paine Grande
Cerro Paine Grande, in Chilean Patagonia, is part of the Cordillera del Paine, which harbors many difficult climbs. Part of the difficulty is the very steep—sometimes vertical—rock climbs, while part is because of the extremely unpredictable weather.


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19

Lhotse
Lhotse, the fourth-highest mountain in the world, is directly connected to Everest. Around 20 deaths have been recorded on Lhotse, and under 400 have actually made it to the summit. The biggest difficulty is altitude, breaching the so-called death zone above 8,000 meters, where human acclimation to the thin atmosphere is impossible. Nonetheless, Lhotse isn't as difficult as Everest, and at least one tour operator offers a package that involves climbing Everest and then walking over to Lhotse and climbing it as well.


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20

Melungtse
Melungtse in Tibet wasn’t officially summitted until 1992 and hasn’t been summitted since. Partially, this is because climbing just hasn’t been allowed, but it’s also an incredibly steep mountain.


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21

Gasherbrum IV
Gasherbrum IV is considered one of the most technically difficult peaks in the world, thanks to its height, sheer faces, and the unstable weather in the area. It’s in Pakistan’s Karakoram Range.


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22

Mount Khuiten
Mount Khuiten, in Mongolia along the Russian border, is one of the hardest mountains to get to on the planet. It's on this list mostly because of its remoteness, not so much because of technical difficulty.


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23

Nanga Parbat
Nanga Parbat in Pakistan is the ninth-tallest mountain in the world, but it ranks higher than that for difficulty. It has never been climbed in winter, and the south side flaunts the largest mountain face on the planet. It's nicknamed “the Man Eater” but recently involved a tragedy that had nothing to do with climbing-related deaths: The local Taliban murdered 10 foreign climbers at their camp.


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24

Mount St. Elias
On the border of the Yukon and Alaska, Mount St. Elias is not frequently a target of mountaineers, due to its horrible weather. Just 10 miles from the ocean, and ascending steeply to an altitude of 18,000 feet, Mount St. Elias is constantly battered by harsh Pacific storms.


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25

Kangchenjunga
Kangchenjunga, on the border of Nepal and India, was thought to be the tallest peak in the world until a massive geographic survey of India in the mid-19th century reclassified it as the world's third-tallest mountain. Over time, fatality rates on Kangchenjunga have remained consistently high, even though most mountains have seen a decrease in death rates as a result of improved equipment and meteorology.


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The post 25 of the world’s hardest mountains to climb [pics] appeared first on Matador Network.

10 types of 30-year-old single guys

30-YEAR-OLD GUYS ARE A CURIOUS BUNCH. Find me a group of 30-year-old men and I’ll pick out one overgrown frat dude living with roommates, another guy who just dropped his two kids off at school, a few who are well into their careers, and a couple soul-searchers looking for work. Some will tell you they’ve finally figured it all out, and some will say they feel hopeless for the first time in their lives.

It’s a motley crew. But perhaps the motliest part of this crowd is the ever-growing group of 30-year-old single guys. If you want a case study in humanity, 30-year-old single guys have pretty much all the bases covered. Let’s examine some of the common types.

1. The Total Package

The Total Package is smart — he went to a top college. The Total Package is an athlete, a musician, and an avid traveler. The Total Package is handsome — and you better believe he’s well-groomed. The Total Package has a hell of a career going, but don’t you for a second suggest that the Total Package would be a workaholic — the Total Package is a family man.

There’s just one thing the Total Package seems to be having a hard time finding — a girl worthy of his greatness.

Yes, the woman fit for the Total Package will be the ultimate icing on his cake of perfection. He imagines her often — gorgeous as they come, she turns heads; bursting with charm and charisma, she lights up every room she enters; she’s a brilliant rising star in her career and beloved by her many friends. And that’s just her public persona — at home, she’s fantastic in bed, a spectacular cook, loving, selfless, and devoted. Oh, and she also speaks French, plays tennis, sings beautifully, reads voraciously, and she’s a history buff. His Juliet.

Unsurprisingly, the Total Package is single. He’s immersed in a fierce battle between his superhuman standards and his terror of being 40 and single — because 40 and single is not supposed to be part of the Total Package’s story.

2. The New Lease on Life Guy

As long as anyone can remember, the New Lease on Life Guy had been dating his long-term girlfriend. He never seemed that happy in the relationship, but everyone just assumed they would eventually get married. Now, after a long and difficult breakup, the New Lease on Life Guy has reemerged with a bang and is suddenly acting like he just got called down on The Price Is Right. He’s not really sure how to be single, but he’s goddamn happy he is, and he’s sure as hell going out tonight.

He’s also the arch-nemesis of the Resigned Fiancé, who’s in an equally unhappy relationship but just kind of kept going with it, unable to resist the sweet, sweet inertia, and who most certainly does not want to hear about the New Lease on Life Guy’s latest exploits.

3. The Guy Who Has to Marry Someone of the Same Ethnicity or His Parents Will Never Speak to Him Again

It’s hard enough finding someone to be your life partner, and this guy’s parents are really not making things any easier. He tried to rebel briefly, but after his last girlfriend was not allowed in his parents’ house, causing her to cry, he gave up on that.

More like this: The 7 types of modern American bigots

He’d also really appreciate it if his mother would stop setting him up on dates.

4. The Misogynist

The Misogynist hates women, and women hate the Misogynist. The Misogynist doesn’t know a whole lot about the other gender, but he can tell you the exact number of them he’s slept with — 214.

He did quite well with girls back in his earlier days, when many were in their ‘attracted to assholes’ phase, but lately only those with the lowest self-esteem seem to gravitate toward him.

The Misogynist’s close cousin is the Perpetual Cheater. They’re different but they understand each other.

5. The Guy Who Peaked Too Early

Back in the day, the Guy Who Peaked Too Early had everything a 17-year-old girl could ever dream of. His sky-high confidence carried him smoothly through college, and no one was surprised when he landed a smart, sweet, beautiful girlfriend in his early 20s. But the Guy Who Peaked Too Early was just getting started. There was a field that needed to be played, and he broke up with his girlfriend when he was 24.

Now it’s seven years later, his hair got bored and left, and his high school football glory isn’t part of the conversation that much these days. And he’s noticing that girls like his ex-girlfriend don’t seem to be all that into him anymore. Realizing this about five years after everyone else, he takes a deep sigh and cranks his standards down a few big notches.

His antithesis is the Guy Who’s Finally a Good Catch. After losing some weight, getting decent clothes, and having early career success, this guy is getting more attention each week than he got in his first 25 years combined. He prominently displays photos on Facebook of himself on dates with attractive girls for the express purpose of making sure everyone from his high school sees his current situation.

6. The Normal Guy Who Just Hasn’t Met the Right Girl Yet and Really Wishes People Would Stop Looking at Him With Those Pitying Eyes

Ah, The NGWJHMTRGYARWPWSLAHWTPE. The NGWJHMTRGYARWPWSLAHWTPE is enjoying his life. He likes his job, he likes his friends, and he likes being single just fine. He’s in no rush to be in a relationship and feels totally confident that at some point, he’ll meet the right girl and get married.

He’s also not quite sure why everyone who knows him is trying to figure out “what the problem is.” His parents are worried, never wasting an opportunity to ask him if he’s been dating anyone. His friends want to help, setting him up on dates every chance they get. He appreciates all the unsolicited support, but he also thinks it would be pretty great if everyone stopped thinking there was something wrong with him.

7. The Aggressively Online Dating Guy Who Can’t Believe He’s Not Married Yet

The opposite of the previous guy, the Aggressively Online Dating Guy Who Can’t Believe He’s Not Married Yet can’t believe he’s not married yet. Through high school, college, and his 20s, he was always the Guy With a Girlfriend. He spent years enjoying pitying his single friends, and somehow, he’s now 30 and single.

He has four online dating profiles, and when people ask him if he’s dating anyone, he explains that he’s just too busy with his career right now for a relationship.

8. The In-the-Closet Guy

The In-the-Closet Guy is so close to being the perfect catch — he’s handsome, he’s well-dressed, and he has a great job. He’s funny, articulate, and charming. The only tiny little inconvenience is that he’s not attracted to females whatsoever.

His antithesis is The NGWJHMTRGYARWPWSLAHWTPE, who’s had just enough of the theories about him being gay, since he’s completely straight and, for the hundredth time, just hasn’t met the right girl yet and is really very okay with being single right now.

9. The Chinese Single Guy

The Chinese Single Guy appreciates the government’s effort to control population through their One-Child Policy. He really does. But he’d also, ya know, like to lose his virginity at some point, and that’s kind of hard when there are 18% more men than women in his generation. This is because a lot of the Chinese Single Guy’s potential girlfriends were killed by their parents when they were two hours old.

The Chinese Single Guy doesn’t know what China’s plan is for the excess 18% of guys who will not be able to find a wife, but he’s pretty sure they’re not making the situation any easier by rampantly discriminating against homosexuality.

10. The Guy Who Has Just Fully Quit at This Point

The Guy Who Has Just Fully Quit at This Point never tried that hard in the first place, but at least there used to be a semblance of effort. He doesn’t like going to bars, refuses to try online dating, and both the bong and the X-Box are back in the living room following their brief stint in the closet after his friend gave him a pep talk one day four months ago.

Deep down, the Guy Who Has Just Fully Quit at This Point is pretty frightened about a lot of things, but his fear manifests itself in indifferent denial, and passivity usually prevails. There’s only way that things change for the Guy Who Has Just Fully Quit at This Point, and that’s to find himself squarely in the sights of the Girl Who Relentlessly Pursues. Until then, the whole thing isn’t really his issue.

This post was originally published at Wait but Why and is reprinted here with permission. Wait But Why posts every Tuesday. To receive Wait But Why posts via email, click here. 

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The post 10 types of 30-year-old single guys appeared first on Matador Network.

My mother as wingman in Greece

Photo: Clapagare

“Oh no you don’t,” my mother said. “You’re not going to jump off from there.”

“It’s deep enough,” I said, teetering on the edge of the schooner, the Aegean Sea below. In the distance, the white-washed buildings clinging to the edge of the caldera looked like snow.

“I forbid it!” she said.

“Mom, I’m 35.”

“Then act like it,” my mother called.

I leapt into the sea.

As I climbed the ladder back into the boat, the sandy-haired stranger smiled at me and winked. I had noticed him as soon as we had boarded the sunset cruise. He had smiled at me then, and being my mother’s daughter, I smiled back. He didn’t look like the usual tourist — sunburned, tennis-shoe-clad, a face tinged with an expression of awe and indigestion.

“What do you think you are, a mermaid?” my mother asked.

“Maybe,” I said and smiled over to the sandy-haired stranger.

My mother caught me and said, “What are you looking at?” even though she already knew.

After a hiking trip up Nea Kameni volcano and a swim in the cloudy warm springs, the tourists were settled back in the boat, drinks in hand, and the sandy-haired man played the saxophone, serenading the setting sun. My mother and I sipped Greek wine, listened to the breathy saxophone, a sound both sassy and serious. The music of a clandestine love affair. Or so I imagined.

It was my mother who’d asked him to ride up the rickety cable car back to Fira with us, who’d invited him to dinner. It was as if she wanted to make sure somebody was going to have a Shirley Valentine experience in Greece.

But this proved to be quite an ordeal, considering Benny, the Albanian saxophone player, had a repertoire of about 10 English words. He could speak Greek, Italian, and of course, Albanian. I can speak Spanish, a language closer to Italian than English, so we managed on Benny’s Italian and my broken Spanish, understanding about 7% of what the other said. We made it through dinner this way, eating takeout gyros on a park bench. He invited us to have drinks later at Enigma, the nightclub where he worked.

“That Benny sure is nice, isn’t he?” my mother asked.

“I guess so. It’s hard to talk to him.”

“He’s handsome.”

“Did you see he’s missing teeth. In the back?” I asked.

“Don’t be so judgmental,” my mother said.

We wandered the cobbled streets, past the tourist shops and bougainvillea, and then had a drink at an Irish pub called Murphy’s. When we thought it late enough, we headed for Enigma.

The bouncer told us that we were too early. It was 10pm but things wouldn’t get started until midnight. Or later.

“Can we just come in for a drink?” my mother asked. “We know Benny.”

So we entered through the neon-lit cave that looked like the tunnel where you wait in line for Disneyland’s Space Mountain. The curved ceilings hung low, the purple neon glowing on the white cave walls.

We were the only patrons in the club.

“It smells like urine,” my mother whispered. “Why did you bring me in the back alleys?”

We walked up to the bar, and ordered white wine, which tasted like vinegar. I asked the bartender how long the bottle had been open, and he just gave me a blank look. My mother told him, “We’re friends with Benny, you know.”

I knew I couldn’t have been the first woman to come in looking for Benny after the boat ride. But I may have been the first woman who had come to the bar accompanied by her mother as wingman.

At the beginning of our trip, my mother had announced that she was no longer going to be passive aggressive. “I’m giving it up,” she had said. In her very next sentence, she asked if my ex-husband, who I was living with again, had ever bought me an engagement ring.

“You know the answer,” I said.

“Do I?” she asked, all innocence. For my mother, different truths exist in different rooms of the brain. At any given time, she decided which room to live in, whether or not secrets and lies decorated the walls. I’d learned to go along with it, depending on the fixtures that told me everything was okay; all of it, normal.

So it didn’t seem anything but normal when my mother and I danced with Benny on the empty dance floor, the bartender looking on with an amused smile. Or when Benny started calling my mother “Mama,” which she tried, unsuccessfully, to discourage because she thought it made her sound old enough to actually be his mother, which of course she was.

When we went back to the white leather couches, Benny squeezed in next to me. He went in for the kiss, and I gave him my cheek.

“Want to see the rooftop terrace?” Benny asked in Italian. The word terrace is the same in Spanish, so I translated for my mother.

“You two go ahead,” my mother said, waving toward the door. “I’ll stay here.” She took a sip of her vinegar wine.

“Thanks, Mama,” Benny said.

I followed Benny up to the rooftop terrace. The lights of Santorini glimmered on the purple Aegean Sea. I breathed in the sea air, and Benny tried to kiss me again. I squirmed away, not because of modesty or because of my live-in ex-husband. In truth, I liked Benny more from afar; the saxophone’s allure was not in the fulfillment of an affair but in its promise.

“I want to kiss you,” he said. These were among his ten English words, and he didn’t really need them because the way he tried to press his mouth to mine made his intent obvious enough.

“We haven’t even had a date,” I tried, as if that had ever stopped me from making out with a stranger.

“But I love you,” he said, trying to kiss me.

“You don’t love me. You want to fuck me.”

“Yes. I want to make fuck but also I love you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You are beautiful, and I want to make fuck.”

“I’m sure you do.” For every backward step I took, Benny took one forward. Our bodies cast dark shadows in the yellow spray of a nearby streetlamp; we stood at the edge of the terrace against a stone wall, the sea shimmering far below.

He nodded and twisted his face into what could pass for sincere.

“That’s fine,” I said, “but I don’t want to leave my mom for too long. We should go back.”

When he looked at me, confused, I said, “Mama,” and pointed down to the club.

He nodded and said in Italian, “We will have a date tomorrow. I will pick you up on my moto. We will go to the beach.”

“Where?” I asked, catching all of it but the last part because the Spanish and Italian words for beach are nothing alike.

“To the sea,” he said in English.

“What time?” I asked in Spanish.

“Dieci,” he said.

“Diez?” I held up all of my fingers, and Benny nodded. I told Benny the name of the hotel where we were staying. It was one of those third-drink decisions. And I reasoned that most of us just want to make fuck; at least Benny had been up-front about it. Sometimes the fewer words we are able to exchange with each other, the more honest we become.

I lived inside a story I hadn’t yet heard but had somehow always known.

Benny smiled and said, “Back to work now.”

When I got back down to the club, my mother had just ordered another glass of wine.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“But I just ordered another drink.”

“It’s like vinegar.”

“It cost me good money.”

“Bring it with you.”

“How can I?”

I took the glass and put it inside my jean jacket. “This is how. Let’s go.”

“Suzanne!”

“This way it won’t be wasted. We can give the glass to Benny tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I sort of made a date with him.”

My mother and I ended up getting lost on the way back to the hotel, and my mother said, “Why are you leading me through the back alleys of Greece?”

“I’m not trying to.”

“You’re not lost, are you?”

“No,” I lied. We walked past a group of stray cats, eating what looked like noodles off of sheets of newspaper. Ahead of us, an old woman distributed the food, and the cats competed for it, snarling and hissing at one another.

“It smells like urine,” my mother whispered. “Why did you bring me in the back alleys?”

“Mom, this is Santorini. There are no back alleys. Have some wine,” I handed her the glass. My mother nodded and drank. A man walked toward us on the path, and my mother spun around and ran the other way, up the cobbled stairs, spilling wine as she went. I followed her, shouting, “Mom! Mom!”

But as luck would have it, we were now headed in the direction of our hotel.

The next morning, my mother asked if I was really going to have a date with Benny. I told her I wasn’t.

“That’s good,” she said. “But give him back the wine glass.”

“Last night you were trying to set me up with him.”

“I was not. I wouldn’t do that. Don’t be daft.”

“You did.”

“Well, you got us lost in the back alleys with the stray cats and the hobos,” she said.

“Hobos? What hobos?”

My mother always told me she came to America to be a nanny. Later, after our trip to Greece, I would hear this story: My mother’s own mother had brought her to the pub when she was 15 and set her up with my grandmother’s boss, a married man of 30.

I lived inside a story I hadn’t yet heard but had somehow always known.

In the morning, I waited in front of the hotel, heard the motor of his moped straining up the hill before I saw him. He wore cutoffs, a t-shirt, and sandals. He motioned for me to get on the back of the bike. I tried to explain first in English and then in Spanish that I wasn’t coming, but Benny just half-smiled, patting on the seat behind him.

“I changed my mind,” I said.

And when Benny still didn’t seem to understand, I said in Spanish “I change my mind,” mixing up verb tenses, so it came out in the present tense, making it seem more right than before.

“You don’t like the beach? We’ll have coffee instead,” Benny said, patting the vinyl seat again.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that I don’t want to leave my mother. She’s sick,” I lied. “Mama sick. Mama enferma,” I said, hoping the Italian word for sick was similar to the Spanish. It isn’t, so Benny just stared at me, pressing his lips together over the emptiness of his mouth. Then he exhaled and asked, “So we are finished?”

Because I didn’t have the words to explain, I just said, “Yes.”

Benny shook his head, not trying to conceal his disappointment.

“But I like you too much,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest.

I just nodded.

He got on his moped and sped back down the hill. I stood there holding the empty wine glass. I couldn’t figure out how to explain it to him to give it back. I put it on the sidewalk near the entrance of our hotel so my mother would think I gave it to him.

I thought about how it would have made a better story if I had gone.

Sometimes my students wonder what a character might have done in another circumstance. Or what might have happened if a character had acted differently, chosen another path? What if Edna Pontellier could have divorced her husband? Would she still have walked into the sea? The point, I tell them, is not what didn’t happen but what did, that anything else is off the page.

That evening, my mother and I went for drinks at a restaurant under the windmill in Oia. The sun dropped like a pink stone into the water, the sunset cruise sailed by below the white-washed buildings, the blue-domed roofs, and the rocky caldera. The sounds of a saxophone rode the wind. “Do you hear that?” my mother asked. “I wonder if that’s Benny?”

“How many saxophone players are in Santorini?” I said, and we both laughed.

My body felt full of what-ifs and why-nots. I’d liked Benny from afar — the smile, the wink, the boundary of desire. I wondered what would have happened if I had gone with him on the back of his bike, winding paths to the sea.

But that’s off the page.

The ending of my story was right there in the wonder, sitting in the salty, pink sunlight with my mother, listening to the far-off notes of a saxophone travel a current of wind.

The post Mother as wingman in Santorini, Greece appeared first on Matador Network.

NYC street artist Hanksy tells all

Hanksy is one of the more amusing street artists out there today. He’s not ever trying to make a grand artistic or political statement with his work. He just wants to make puns. You can check out his work on his Tumblr page — the basic gist is that he transposes an image of a celebrity onto something else and puns on it.

So a reindeer with Lil Wayne’s head is a Lil Waynedeer. A coyote with Miley Cyrus’s head on it is Mile E. Coyote. And so on. While it sounds kinda juvenile, it’s frankly infinitely better than a lot of the overly heavy-handed political statements you sometimes get from street artists like Banksy.

Hanksy recently did an interview for the web series No Your City, which is focused on strange and interesting NYC residents, and it’s fantastic. “I don’t think anyone takes the game as serious as I do,” he says, as the camera shows him spray-painting boobs on a TV.

The post New York’s most famous pun-based street artist tells all appeared first on Matador Network.

How civilians beat a Mexican cartel

A member of a Michoacan self-defense miltia stands at the ready.
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For more than 10 years, Mexico’s lime industry has been controlled by various drug cartels. This fact was little known to the public until recently, when word got out that the cartels have retreated into hiding due to a successful uprising from civilian militias.

The Knights Templar (or los Templarios) have been the primary controller of the lime trade since they defeated the Zetas cartel several years ago in Tepalcatepec, Michoacan.

When it comes to lime production, cartel members control the price of the crop, as well as when and where farmers can sell it. They charged hefty protection fees and collected on a generous percentage of the farmers’ profits. Farmer Efrain Hernandez Vazquez told NPR that about 10% of his sales, or $2,000 per week, went to the Knights.

In many cases, when a farmer refused to cooperate his land was stolen. In even more cases, he was murdered.

Some civilians supported the Knights because they believed the cartel’s presence would protect Michoacan. But since their takeover, the Knights have been responsible for kidnappings, rapes, and murders of the state’s civilians. Cartel members have even been accused of kidnapping children for organ harvest.

In response, the civilians of Michoacan created vigilante “self-defense militias,” which have been fighting against the cartel since early 2013. In October of that year, hundreds of vigilantes marched unarmed into the main square of Apatzingán, which is considered “hot country” for Mexico’s lime and avocado trade. The citizens’ act of bravery was met with gunshots from cartel members, and they were forced to retreat.

In May 2013, President Enrique Peña Nieto deployed thousands of troops and federal police. But they too came up against violence and were overpowered.

The vigilante groups explained their case to local government and the forces were permitted to combine efforts. Militia members and police troops have worked together in clashes such as the one that took place in Nueva Italia in January, where hundreds of armed civilians seized a bastion that belonged to the cartel.

Numerous successful uprisings such as this one have led to the cartel’s retreat, as well as the arrests of several government officials, who have been charged on their participation in organized crime.

The United States Dept. of Agriculture reports that the price of limes is finally beginning to drop back to normal. Consumers are paying on average 30 cents per fruit, whereas a few months ago they were paying 90.

As for the lime farmers, they are rejoicing in a new-found independence from the violence and extortion of the cartel.

The post How a civilian militia defeated a Mexican drug cartel appeared first on Matador Network.

15 Americana sights on Route 66

Historic Route 66 is the most famous road in America, thanks to Nat King Cole. The road, which stretches from Chicago to LA in a broad, meandering curve, has been called America’s “Mother Road.” Excepting its endpoints and St. Louis, it hardly runs through America’s most iconic cities — Amarillo, Albuquerque, Tulsa, Joplin, Flagstaff — but it somehow manages to capture a broad cultural cross-section of the country and thus is almost synonymous with the concept of “Americana.” It’s like the asphalt version of a Bruce Springsteen song.

Route 66 is no longer part of the US highway system, so many parts of it have fallen into disrepair or are basically just dirt roads — the parts of it that weren’t absorbed into other highways or routes aren’t even on the maps anymore. So if you’re planning on traveling it, you need to find a special Route 66 map, and you need to be willing to do some off-roading.

Huge portions of Route 66 are still there, though, and they’re peppered with kitschy, quirky Americana all the way through. Here are some of the quintessentially American sites you’ll see if you ever plan to motor west on the highway that’s the best.

1

Cadillac Ranch
Probably the most quirky and weird example of Americana kitsch on Route 66 is the Cadillac Ranch. It’s basically just a bunch of old junker Cadillac cars planted into the ground in Amarillo, Texas. Visitors are encouraged to use the cars as a graffiti canvas.


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2

The Painted Desert
Of course, most of the allure of traveling Route 66 isn’t in the kitsch or the memorabilia of 1950s and '60s America—it’s the Western American landscape. Probably the most beautiful part of the road is in Arizona, where it passes near the Painted Desert, the Petrified Forest, and the Grand Canyon.


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3

Ed Galloway’s Totem Pole Park
About three miles off from Route 66 is Ed Galloway’s Totem Pole Park. Ed was a retired teacher who moved just outside of Foyil, Oklahoma, to open the Totem Pole Park (because, why not?). It holds the record for the world’s largest concrete totem pole.


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Intermission





The Lewis and Clark road trip [guide]





39 of the world’s most inspiring routes for road trips [PICs]





A road trip guide to Montana’s local food


















4

Shea’s Gas Station Museum
We can and will make a museum out of anything we want to in America. Try us. This is in Springfield, Illinois.


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5

Grant Park
Route 66 officially starts at the edge of Grant Park, Chicago, the quintessentially American city that sits on Lake Michigan. Grant Park is the site of both Lollapalooza and Barack Obama’s 2008 election acceptance speech.

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6

The Milk Bottle Grocery
Continuing the Route 66 tradition of making things big that absolutely don’t need to be big, the Milk Bottle Grocery is pretty self-explanatory. But recently, the former grocery has been replaced with a Vietnamese sandwich shop, which—depending on who you ask—may make the Oklahoma City icon even more American.

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7

The Route 66 Shoe Tree
Let’s be honest. Shoe trees could happen anywhere in the world. But there are 76 shoe trees in America. What you call a weird quirk, we call a tradition worth preserving. The famous Route 66 shoe tree in Amboy, California, sadly collapsed in 2010. Probably because of the shoes.

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8

Lou Mitchell’s
Called "the First Stop on the Mother Road,” Lou Mitchell’s is a restaurant right by Chicago’s Union Station. It gets the only-in-America designation because it hands out donut holes and Milk Duds to people waiting in line—because why should all the caloric intake happen during the meal? Also, if there’s another country where every single coffee shop serves “the World’s Best Coffee,” I don’t know what it is.


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9

Roy’s Motel and Cafe
Roy’s is a now-defunct Route 66 landmark in the town of Amboy and is owned by a Route 66 preservationist named Albert Okura who plans to reopen it. It's known for its “Googie” architecture—a type of '50s futuristic style most famous in the “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign.


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Intermission



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The ultimate road trip through tropical North Queensland [pics]



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The ultimate Ireland road trip, in pictures





15 moments that define a road trip


















10

Snow Cap Drive-in
Route 66 is inevitably peppered with kitschy American diners, but Delgadillo’s Snow Cap Drive-in in Seligman, Arizona, might be the best solely on the basis of the “cheeseburgers with cheese” and “dead chicken” menu offerings.


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11

Wigwam Motels
On Route 66 in Holbrook, Arizona, not too far from the Grand Canyon, is one of two remaining Wigwam Motels on the Mother Road. This was a hotel chain set up in the '30s, and there are now only three remaining, two of which are on Route 66 (the other is in Rialto, CA). Incidentally, the rooms are shaped like tipis, not wigwams.


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12

Jack Rabbit Trading Post
The Jack Rabbit Trading Post is a relatively nondescript convenience store near Joseph City, Arizona. It’s famous, though, because of its frequent billboards along the route, finishing with a big one saying “HERE IT IS.” Anyone who's traveled long enough on American roads knows that the put-all-our-money-into-billboards advertising strategy has not died for some companies.

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13

Tow Tater
It’s incredible what can become a Route 66 landmark. The road was the inspiration for the Pixar movie Cars, and the inspiration for Larry the Cable Guy’s character in that movie was Tow Tater, a 1951 International Boom tow truck that sits outside the Kan-O-Tex Service Station in Galena, Kansas.

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14

The Gemini Giant
The Gemini Giant is what’s known as a “Muffler Man”—a bizarre quirk of American advertising that consisted of building giant fiberglass models to draw attention to roadside shops. The Gemini Giant is named after the Gemini space program and is advertising for the Launchpad Diner in Wilmington, Illinois. Yes, that helmet on his head is supposed to be a space helmet, and yes, the item in his hands is a rocket, not a bomb. There are a number of Muffler Men along Route 66.


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15

Santa Monica Pier
Route 66 ends with the Santa Monica Pier, a classic American boardwalk along the Pacific Ocean.


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The post 15 only-in-America sights you’ll see on a Route 66 road trip appeared first on Matador Network.

Adventures in ultralight journalism

Pello Naisiaja, a 96-year-old Maasai elder who has six wives and 33 children. Mkuru, Tanzania.
Photo: Mary Slosson

In October 2013, I spent 12 days traveling across Tanzania as a New Media Fellow with the International Reporting Project, reporting on how climate change and increasingly variable rainfall are affecting agricultural development in a country where 75% of the population are subsistence farmers.

Inspired by the likes of Kevin Russ and other high-quality iPhone-only photographers, I challenged myself to document the experience using nothing but my iPhone camera, Instagram, and the minimalist editing application Afterlight.

Despite some trepidation over using an older model iPhone 4s, I was satisfied with the resulting photo quality and found that most of my subjects found snapping photos with a cellphone much more natural — and less obtrusive — than using a larger and more intimidating DSLR.

John Jackson shows me the hand-dug well the village uses as a water source for crops, livestock, cooking, and drinking. Even after boiling, the water still causes diarrhea. Mlanda, Tanzania. Photo: Mary Slosson

Documenting the experience of rural subsistence farmers is hot and dusty work. In a small village named Mlanda, located in the country’s agriculturally rich southern corridor, a local named John Jackson took me and two other reporters on a long hike through the village’s crop fields under a scorching sun to show us their water sources.

What prompted that journey was seeing a broken water pump in the village center that had been constructed using foreign aid money. No longer functioning, the pump is far too costly for the local government to fix, so residents now walk either to a dirty well 30 minutes away or to a neighboring village to get clean drinking water.

Dozens of abandoned jerrycans in Ngarenanyuki ward, Tanzania. Photo: Mary Slosson

Such impromptu field reporting was made easier by the fact that I could shoot photos and record audio on a single device and pack all my gear — phone, water, notebook, and sunscreen — in a very lightweight pack.

All of my formal journalism training, from graduate studies to professional work, has told me that a proper DSLR camera is essential to proper journalism work. Maybe that’s true. But I found using iPhone and Instagram photojournalism to be a more carefree and gonzo spirit of doing things, allowing me to connect more to my subjects and be more in the moment as a human being trying to understand the experience of other human beings.

This article originally appeared on Medium and is republished here with permission.

The post Adventures in ultralight journalism appeared first on Matador Network.

14 signs you're from the Bay Area

Photo: Hipsters of San Francisco | Flickr – Photo Sharing!

1. “San Fran” makes you cringe.

Saying it in a non-mocking tone would be a crime. Ditto for “Cali.” And don’t get me started on “Frisco.”

2. You’ve been to a show at the Greek or the Fillmore.

Your parents may remember when music legends such as Bob Dylan or The Who rocked these iconic establishments, but their reputations continue to stand strong. Famous artists like Jimmy Cliff and Jack Johnson play there now, attracting multi-generational fans.

3. You know what “hyphy music” is.

And how to “go dumb.” A high-school dance wasn’t complete without a little E-40 or Mistah F.A.B. Similarly, you rep all Bay Area music to an obnoxious degree — be it Tupac, Mac Dre, and Andre Nickatina, or the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane.

4. You’ve said “hella” before.

Don’t lie. We’ve all done it.

5. Southern California might as well be Vietnam, it’s so foreign to you.

Rancho Cuca-what? Calabasas? You have no idea what people are talking about when they mention a hometown south of Fresno. It’s like asking a SoCal native to point out Mendocino on a map.

6. When your car radio picks up 104.5, 94.9, or 97.3, you know you’re home at last.

This emotional experience is only amplified when you burst into tears upon hearing a Shane Co. commercial.

7. Likewise, Sarah and Vinnie are household names.

Though you’ll never forget the first time you saw what they actually look like. That was weird.

8. “The city” will always mean San Francisco to you.

Although you may temporarily plant roots in another city at some point, San Francisco will always be your home base, referred to simply as “the city.”

9. But you haven’t been to Fisherman’s Wharf since your fourth-grade field trip.

Pier 49, cable cars, and Lombard Street are all to be avoided like the plague.

10. When an out-of-towner asks if you’ve ever been skiing, you go on a passionate rant about Tahoe.

You have such fond memories of doing “the pizza” as a kid at Squaw or Alpine. Of course there’s snow in California, people. What did you think it was, one big beach? You did, didn’t you?

11. The term “fair-weather fan” would never describe you.

Whether you belong to Raider Nation or rep the Giants like it’s your job, you stick by your team. Loyalty runs deep in the Bay Area.

12. But you could be called a food snob.

You’re used to really good food. Like the rest of California, you’re elitist when it comes to produce (chiefly concerning avocados, of course) and organic options. At least one of your friends has gone through a vegetarian or vegan phase. Most importantly, you know that Sol Food is not the same as soul food.

13. Chances are someone in your family went to Cal.

This is bear territory, after all. You tell the story…

14. Your flight has been delayed due to fog.

Nothing’s more frustrating than being grounded on the tarmac or unable to land due to dense mist. Dense mist.

The post 14 signs you were born and raised in the Bay Area appeared first on Matador Network.