We all have questions and need advice, but sometimes the pseudo therapy in the Instagram stories of astrology girls doesn’t cut it. Or maybe the gate-keeping culture of adventure bros has you fearing the judgment that comes with revealing yourself as a newbie at anything. This advice column exists to hold space for you and your Boulder queries (especially the uncool ones).
WTF is dating app replying etiquette? Is it the same as FB Marketplace or is ghosting rude?
Have you or a loved one ever been ghosted on a dating app? You may be entitled to absolutely nothing. You owe zip to these people. In fact, they’re not people, they’re just a collection of AI-generated images of beards and Patagonia hats that you compulsively swipe through in the bathroom even though you’re done peeing but your brain still craves small hits of increasingly depleted dopamine.
You know who is a person? The dude from Facebook Marketplace you ghosted after he drove all the way from Nederland to a Whole Foods parking lot with a kombucha scoby — because you can’t commit to a situationship much less a bacteria-and-yeast symbiotic mass. (Seriously, don’t ghost people on Marketplace.)
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Is this ethical non monogamy thing just a fad or here to stay?
After I explained the nuanced and recent phenomenon of ethical non monogamy (ENM) to my extremely midwestern-rational mother, her response fell along the lines of, “Oh, you mean dating?” That is to say, ENM has been a thing for as long as people outside primary partnerships have been hot, and all involved decided that this was fine and groovy, i.e., for all human history.
But I get it, it seems like you can’t hook yourself up to an oxygen machine at Tonic these days without a couple in the corner giving you the ol’ horny up-n-down. And, as comes with any labeling of things that don’t really need a label, the smug factor of these abundance-mindset couples is bigger than ever. As the saying goes, if a couple says that they’re opening their relationship and no one is around to hear it, are they still better than you?
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How do I erase all memories of living in Boulder?
If you’ve ever watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, you know that trying to erase memories of Kate Winslet doesn’t usually work out. Like Kate Winslet, Boulder is also pretty, probably sporting blue hair, and impossible to erase from your memories. It sounds like what you really want is to erase some of the trauma Boulder left you with.
Start your healing journey by going on a date with a trade-school-educated man who eats carbs. Nothing will deprogram your Boulder-bruised psyche like a dude named Tad who won’t even know what Strava is, much less base his self-worth on his stats in the app.
Should I move back to Boulder?
Much like memories of a flighty Boulder ex whose insistence on treating you like a side piece seemed like a Bohemian novelty at the time — “You wouldn’t get it, we don’t go out because that’s so inauthentic” — our city takes on a rose-tinted Instagram filter when given time and distance.You remember the reflection of the sun on the Flatirons while forgetting coming face-to-face with death itself after being peer-pressured into scrambling them. Similarly, it’s easy to forget that those sick views of the Flatirons from almost anywhere in Boulder are the result of NIMBY-backed housing construction and density regulations that are the reason your rent was so high that you needed to move out of Boulder in the first place.
Am I saying that Chief Niwot’s curse acts like selective memories of an emotionally abusive ex? I’m not not saying that…
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Where’s the actual good food in Boulder?
Hi there! Did you mean to post this in r/Boulder?
Eating actually-good food in Boulder is all about the hype vs. the company you keep. Sure, the child-sized portion of morel-infused something at Frasca tasted fine, but you had to listen to the sugar daddy who picked up the tab talk about Deion Sanders for a good hour. However, the burrito bowl and marg you inhaled with your besties at Illegal Pete’s — after Frasca left you a starving waif — tasted the way friendship feels.
For what it’s worth, the best thing I ever tasted in Boulder was a flattened, months-old Cashew Cookie LĂ„RABAR from the depths of my backpack after hours of being lost on a trail. It tasted nothing like a cashew cookie.Â
Got a burning Boulder question or conundrum? DM @wholefoods_daddy on Instagram, or email [email protected] with the subject line “Dear Whole Foods Daddy.”
