After each goodbye, I ask myself why I ever ventured to start any kind of romance with an interloper.It’s true, navigating around the emotional and familial ties that reduce our already tiny dating pool to one that’s, at times, excruciatingly small is a strong incentive.Some will apply to those born and raised in this vast land of few, some to the long-term transplants, and, for good measure, I’ll even throw in a couple for the newcomers, you poor souls.Before you embark on the onerous adventure that is dating in the North, here’s what you should know.Usually when we step over the line that divides us from the South to see what we might find, we encounter someone who doesn’t have the right gear to survive the weather (or far too much of it), or someone who doesn’t know the lingo (or who uses it before they’ve earned the right).
Unless you want to know the details of the fetishes of family friends, co-workers, old babysitters, or the hardware store guy, don’t make a Fet Life account.
One awkward kiss later, Karl left town and I went back to being single, but this time, with a little more clarity.
With all the mine workers, geologists, dentists, anthropologists, prospectors, journalists, doctors, explorers and countless other varieties of passers-through who touch down in the North for as short as a week or as long as three years (at which point they either leave or graduate to Northerner status), it’s a strong possibility that at some point, you’re going to go for someone who is on their way out.
Someone who reminds us why we’re here and why we stay, even though we might never find ourselves in a relationship as strong as the one we have with the North.
I can only imagine what it must be like trying to date one of us.