Giddy up.
Snapped in Avondale by Danielle Carter.
A Tinder cold shoulder
A reader writes: "After a few weeks of friendly and mildly suggestive texting on Tinder we arranged to meet in person for a drink at a restaurant near where I live. I arrived, ordered a beer and busied myself with
my smartphone. Keeping a keen eye on the door. 6.11pm: Are you lost? No reply. 6.30pm: Or not coming? No reply. 6.45pm: This is awkward. No reply. So I ordered the lamb cannelloni (delish) and a glass of red and sat in that restaurant with the lovely view. I admitted to the waiter that I had been stood up. Pity face. "He was older so maybe he had a stroke," I chirped. At home at 9.35pm: I sent a message: "I hope you're only an a**hole and that something terrible hasn't happened to you. Let me know?" No reply. Unmatch."
True sounds of suburbia
"Birdsong huh? Yeah right," says Eddy of the tui in a nearby tree in Devonport. "Your incessant early morning, late night five-beep repertoire is so #&%%!!## annoying. You are obviously paranoid and ugly and can't find a mate. Go back to the bush where you belong so that I can again appreciate the true sounds of suburbia ... helicopters, mowers, weed-whackers, power tools ... ahhh."
