A short while I ago, as an aside, I mentioned that I might be buying an RV to live in. It seemed like a good idea, so every day I checked ebay to see what sorts of deals were to be had. I wasn’t ready to buy, but I figured it would be good to know what’s available for when the condo sold.

I sat in my living room chatting with some friends on AIM when one of them brought up the RV idea. While I explained it to them I opened up ebay. By default it shows the most recently listed RVs on top. The very top one was an R-Vision Trail Lite, one of the few models I’d really liked. I glanced over at the price and it was $14,000, less than half of what they usually go for. There must be something wrong with it.

I opened the listing and read through the description. The front “shotgun” seat was missing. No big deal. They’d backed into something and the fiberglass around the tail light was cracked. No big deal. The couch wasn’t the one specifically made for the RV. No big deal.

The Trail Lite is a twenty one foot RV, which is just three feet larger than a regulation parking spot. That means that it can park anywhere with little enough overhang that no one will complain. Our school bus, on the other hand, took up two spots front to back, or about 5 spots sideways. It’s about as small as you can get and still have a fridge, bathroom with shower, and stove.

The deal was just too good to pass up. I wrote a short list of questions and called the guy. He seemed particularly honest for a car salesman and had all the right answers.

“Well, I’ll have to think about it,” I started, “but if you’d take $13,000, I’d buy it right now.”

“Ooh. I can’t go that low. How about $13,500?”

I thought for a split second. This was definitely a good deal, but was I really ready to commit to living in an RV?

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

Sometimes you just have to do the things you want to do. I’ve always wanted an RV, and this was exactly what I was looking for. If it didn’t work out, I knew I could sell it for more than I paid.

We hung up and I called Doug to borrow his credit card to pay the deposit. The guy didn’t take Amex, and that’s all I have.

Fifteen minutes later I call him back.

“I’m glad you called back. I’ve already had four people call who wanted to buy it.”

I checked the listing and realized that I had caught it within minutes of it hitting ebay, and was his first caller. Sometimes being impulsive pays.

I told all of my friends, and most wanted to come with me to pick it up. Evan had obligations she coudn’t skip out on. Todd got stuck in San Francisco longer than expected. Jonah was going on a trip to Italy on Wednesday and didn’t want to be rushed. Kristen was free.

We planned on leaving Friday morning at 5am, but I was too excited to sleep so we left at 1am instead. I rented a one way car from Avis and we headed out. It was a twelve hour drive, which got us to the RV dealership at 1pm. The drive up was unexciting other than the general anticipation of picking up the RV.

I saw it as soon as we pulled into the dealership, and couldn’t wait to look inside. On the way up I wondered if it would really be big enough to live in. After all the cabin is only about 120 square feet, and that’s before you start counting things like the closets and counters. It looked tiny on the outside, but the inside felt really big. The back has a small hallway with a closet on one side and a bathroom on the other. The hallway connects to a tiny kitchen with a sink on one side and a stove and microwave on the other. Between the kitchen and driving area is a living room with a dinette and a couch.

The dinette folds down into a small bed (barely wider than a twin), but if you fold down the couch as well it makes a huge bed that’s much larger than a King. It’s probably the biggest bed I’ve ever slept in.

What’s particularly great about the RV is that it’s a 2002, which is new enough to have a good engine and appliances, but it’s not so new and polished that I can’t modify it. The first thing I’ll do is take the microwave out and put a light oven in (and, yes, I did bring my light oven with me on the trip).

I still haven’t decided where to park the RV. Doug offered the alley next to his house, which might be good choice until I move out of the condo. When I get back I’m going to try staying overnight in a parking lot near my house to see if anyone complains.

Soon I’ll be going city to city, listening to audio programs from The Learning Company as I drive. This summer I’ll do NY and Boston, maybe Montreal and Vermont. I may also do the West coast too.

Kristen and I are driving down I-25 towards White Sands now. We went to the aquarium in New Mexico today, which was neat. They had sand tiger sharks which bare their teeth as they swim. Tomorrow we’ll do Carlsbad Caverns and head home!

This is a continuation of the story found here.
Immediately things were a bit awkward. “She knows what we’re doing,” I thought. Short glances were exchanged between us, sizing up the situation. Simone and I barely revealed hints of smug grins.

Simone suggested giving us manicures. I sat next to Ariel as she filed and polished our nails. We got a bit more comfortable and started joking around a little bit. Simone got up to get the topcoat and Ariel flopped down with her head on my arm.

“I’m so tired!”

It was 3pm. Could she possibly be hinting? I’ve learned that if there’s room to interpret something a girl does as suggestive, it probably is. On one hand we’d only known each other for an hour and a half, but on the other hand she seemed to know what was going on and was onboard.

“I’ll make you some tea.”

I got up to make some white tea. Simone emerged from the bedroom with the topcoat and we shot each other wide eyes as if to say, “Really? Already?”.

Without hesitation, Simone sprung into action.

“Come lie down on Tynan’s bed.”

“Ok.”

Wow. Was it seriously that easy? The tea I like takes about 10 minutes to make. I waited patiently in the kitchen as the girls went into my bedroom. I tried to imagine what was going on on the other side of the wall. Were they sitting there, prim and proper? Were they making out?

They were making out. I walked in with the teacups and saw them draped under the blankets. Simone was on top of Ariel kissing her. Being cautious I made a little stomping noise so that they’d know I was there. They heard it but ignored it. I walked up to the edge of the bed and they flipped the blanket off of them.

Ariel looked up at me and then turned to Simone, “It’s his bed. He should be in here too.”

Tough to argue with that. I put down the tea and laid down on my back next to Ariel. It was a timid move, but I didn’t want to rock the boat just yet. Our arms barely touched.

Mimicking me she lay on her back stiff as a board, with her hands by her side. I laughed.

“Ok,” I said.

I turned towards her. Simone moved off her on to the other side and we all started cuddling.

I thought back to the year before I became a pickup artist. I remember distinctly resigning myself to the fact that I’d never have a threesome. It was disappointing, but not too upsetting. That’s just how things are, I thought. I pushed my arm over Ariel’s stomach and across Simone’s chest. If only I could have seen this scene way back then. I wouldn’t have believed it.

Time passed quickly as we rearranged ourselves and cuddled in different positions. There are interesting aspects to cuddling with three people that I hadn’t anticipated. It’s hard to tell whose hand is whose. Realizing that it doesn’t really matter is exciting. I loaned Ariel a pair of my Smartwool socks. Is seemed like a sea of wriggling feet at the foot of the bed. When I spooned both of them I could close my eyes and imagine that I was spooning a really fat girl. Opening my eyes revealed the considerably more appealing thought of, “wow. That’s a lot of shoulders.”

Ariel closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. She was in between Simone and I. We lifted our heads up so that we could mouth words to each other.

“Oh my god!” she mouthed.

“I know!”

“Want me to go to the bathroom for a minute?”

“Sure”

Simone got up and went to the bathroom. I tightened my arms to accomodate only one girl and squeezed her against me. She put her arm over mine. No resistance. My left arm was up on the pillow - you know how when you cuddle you always have that one extra arm that isn’t doing anything? She moved her arm up and put her hand in mine, fingers loosely interlocked.

Simone got out of the bathroom, saw that things were going well, and smiled. A few minutes passed and I pretended to go to sleep. Simone had been trying to kiss Ariel, but she was shy with me there. I figured that maybe things could get jump started while I was asleep.

Once it was plausible that I would be asleep, Simone started kissing Ariel. She was timid at first, but eventually started getting into it. I was pressed up against two girls making out with each other in my bed. Simone started tugging at Ariel’s pants.

“It’s a rule. Tynan doesn’t let girls wear pants in his bed.”

That’s true. It just seems disrespectful.

“No…”

“Yes…”

Simone shook me to wake me up.

“Tynan, tell Ariel what the rule is in your bed.”

“What rule? Oh… no pants are allowed.”

“Simone’s wearing pants, though.”

She took them off. I could tell now that we were moving too fast for her, but I didn’t want to leave Simone as the odd one out, so I took off my pants too. After realizing that Ariel wasn’t going to take hers off, we laid back down and resumed cuddling, but it wasn’t the same.

Simone was now in between Ariel and I. She got up to get some water. Ariel rolled over into my arms and said, “Your girlfriend is scaring me.”

It was an odd statement that felt more like a confession.

Shortly after Simone got back, Ariel’s phone rang. It was her out of town friend that she’d been waiting on, so she had to go.

Simone walked her out, taking forever. I couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say.

Finally after twenty minutes, Simone called me.

“She was freaked out.”

“Dammit.”

Our chances of having Ariel as a girlfriend were dashed. We’d pushed too far too fast and now she was uncomfortable.

As soon as they had left, Ariel asked “What was THAT?”

With some difficulty, Simone convinced her that we thought SHE was going for a threesome and we were just going along for the ride. We met at a club later that night, and things were tremendously awkward between Ariel and I.

So close, yet so far away.

Hello. If you’re my mom, please don’t read this. My mom once decided to venture out onto this site and randomly chose an article called I’m Pregnant to read. That happened to be the only non-mom-friendly post. This is another one, so I’m giving you fair warning, mom.

Once up on a time in a land not too far away I had a lady friend who was also into the ladies. We’ll call her Simone. We were watching a lot of “Girls Next Door”, the show about the Playboy Mansion, and we decided that it would be pretty awesome to have a three way relationship. So our quest began. We went out to clubs a couple times but had a lot of trouble finding a girl we both liked. We’d talk about finding another girl from time to time, but didn’t make much progress.

Then one day she meets a girl named Ariel. She’s an adorably cute half Asian girl with a knack for saying hilarious inappropriate things. For example, she went through an entire Teen Vogue and shared with us her guesses on the condition of various celebrities’ “downstairs situations”. Descriptions ranged from pristine with rainbows shooting out to looking like rotten pumpkins (Beyonce).

Simone and Ariel started dating and spending a lot of time together.

“So… do you think she’ll be the third girl?”

“No! She’s a lesbian!”

Oh. Apparently she had never once been with a guy. It was too bad because she was the first girl that we both liked, and I’ve never dated an Asian girl before. I imagine it’s a very Zen like experience and that tea is ceremoniously served after each encounter.

A few weeks passed with no progress on our quest.

“Baby… I think she might be into it,” Simone said.

“What?”

“Ariel was talking about you the other night and joked about being with you. I laughed and she said that I didn’t know her very well!”

It was on. We’d only met once for about half an hour, but I could tell that she liked me. Knowing what might be in store, I’d mustered up what charm I could.

We needed to put in some more quality time before I could make any moves. I suggested that we hang out during the day to get to know each other better and be comfortable around each other. Simone coordinated it so that we’d all meet at my place at 2pm on a Saturday.

I waited for them to get to my place, unable to decide if I was nervous or just excited. I never felt nervous around women anymore, but this was uncharted territory. At 2:10 they knocked on my door.

“Hey baby!” said Simone. I hugged and kissed her.

“Hey baby!” said Ariel. It was a joke, but an undeniably appealing one. I hugged her and we all walked into the living room.

To Be Continued…

My recent war that I’ve been waging has been against stuff. For a while (and by that I mean since 7th grade), I’ve produced my own income and spent most of it on things from the internet. I’ve talked about this before so I won’t bore you with the laundry lists of my posessions.

Then when I sold my house in North Austin, I was faced with the prospect of moving all that stuff. My most financially productive years were while I lived there, so I bought a ton of stuff. During that period of collection it never occurred to me that I would eventually move. My garage as well as one of the bedrooms in the house because warehouses for my things.

When I moved, I took a pretty extreme approach. I went through every item in the house and made a decision - either I needed it or not. If it was worth more than $50 or so I sold it. If it was worth less than that I put it in a bedroom. If it was worth less than $5-10 I donated it or threw it away. I posted my address on craigslist and let people go into the bedroom and take all that they wanted. Within a few hours the bulk of my stuff was taken away.

Seeing all my stuff leave was strange. I remembered buying each item. There was the Vrtual Boy (that’s a 3d Nintendo game, not some weird sex toy) that I bought on a school trip to Houston. I handed off my cuisinart ice cream maker whose arrival I eagerly anticipated for days. I watched as my plates that I had spent half an hour choosing left in someone else’s hands. These were, for the most part, items that I had really wanted and spent a considerable amount of money on.

As people left with trucks and vans full of my stuff I felt like I was scamming them somehow. Here were things that I’d identified as clutter that other people were now burdening themselves with. Would that Virtual Boy actually improve that guy’s life, or would it take up space in his closet? At the same time, I felt like a sucker. I’d spent thousands of dollars on these things, and giving them away was the best outcome I could find.

When all was said and done I had a small stack of boxes that fit neatly in the hallway of the condo. My entire house was reduced to just that small collection. I filled half a dumpster and dropped dozens of bag off at Goodwill.

I assumed that my distaste for stuff would wear off. It was just a temporary reaction to the drudgery of moving, I thought. I wanted to write about it here but I didn’t want to go on and on about something only to change my mind a month later.

It’s been over a month now, and my love for simplicity has only increased. A few days ago I went through the boxes that I had brought here and threw away half of the stuff in them. I did a clean sweep through the condo and photographed everything valuable that I didn’t want. I then moved it into a closet and began listing it on ebay. I now list 2 things every day and will continue to do so until I don’t have anything I don’t need.

At my house I had a large HON two drawer lateral filing cabinet. I brought the files over here in several boxes. Today I went through every paper I have and shredded almost all of them. I filled up an entire trash bag with shreddings. The remainder of my files fit neatly into half of one of the small filing boxes. My parents allowed me to put a few plastic boxes in their attic of mementos (I’m far too sentimental).

Some things are hard for me to decide on. I bought the best pots and pans money can buy - All Clad Copper Core. I had them monogrammed with my name (”I’ll always need pots and pans, right?”) which makes them unsellable. On the rare occasions that I need a pan, using one of them is a pleasure.

What about these sequined pillows I have? They were given to me at a trade show. I like that someone gave them to me, and I think they’re cool, but they serve no purpose in my life.

On a coffee table is a lamp that technically belongs to Courtney Love. She had moved out of the house without it, and I took it with me when I moved to Austin. She once confided in me that it was worth $100k (doubtful…), so I figured I ought not to leave it in the chaos that Project Hollywood had become. Still, I don’t really want it, but I’m not in touch with her so I can’t return it.

I have so many clothes in my closet that I paid tons of money for. I had a bit of an addiction to Cavalli, and it shows. Honestly I’d rather just wear some super functional patagonia capilene shirts now. It sounds stupid, especially considering how much I used to love to wear cool clothes, but it’s not important anymore. The simplicity of having seven shirts and two pairs of pants and doing laundry once a week to keep them clean is really tempting to me. No closet needed - I’d just fold them in a suitcase.

In fact, I feel like I’m holding on to old things just because I’m worried that I’ll lose my drive to make money. If Cavalli clothes don’t excite me anymore, then why do I need millions?

It’s little speedbumps like these that I’m still trying to deal with, but overall my progress has been amazing. When I look around and see how little stuff I have now, I feel really happy. More importantly, the stuff I do have is super high quality (worthy of being on bestintheland.com, even). I have only two computers besides my laptop (down from 20 or so), and I’m going to sell both soon.

So what’s my goal with all this? To have so little stuff that I can have it all written on one page. I don’t know how to explain it, but the idea of having a list of every single thing I own seems incredibly wonderful to me. Further, I want to be completely mobile. I want moving to be a simple 1 hour affair rather than a 3 day chore. You may wonder why moving is important since it’s such a rare occurrence, which brings me to my next topic.

The condo has gone on the market and people have begun to look at it. The average time on the market for a property like this is 8 months, but that’s no guarantee. I could be out of here next month, or I could be here for another year. There’s no way to know.

This isn’t an easy situation to plan for. On one hand I believe this is the best place to live in all of Austin, so I’d like to stay as long as possible. On the other hand, if I’m going to move it would be cool to have some sort of plan.

Really what I want to do is be a nomad. I love Austin, but I also love LA and Boston. More than any of those places, I love exploring the world. What if I could go to Japan for a month or two and have EVERYTHING I own with me? When I think of home I get this warm fuzzy feeling of security and comfort. I like being at home and tend to want to come back when I’m away for too long. What if home was just on the road? Would I still have that feeling wherever I went? I think so.

My ideal situation would be to find a cheap, tiny, but well appointed (wood floors, etc) apartment or guesthouse as close to downtown Austin as possible. My family and my best friends are here, so I may as well make this my home base. If I was only paying a few hundred a month for rent, I wouldn’t feel like I was squandering money when I spent a month in another state or country. I’m not willing to live far away from downtown, though.

I spent an hour looking on ebay for an RV. Maybe I’ll buy a 22′ RV that has a little living room that doubles as a bedroom, a small kitchen (I’ll replace the microwave with a light oven, obviously), and a tiny bathroom with a shower. Then I could literally bring my home anywhere in North America with me. Plus it would be so small that I could park it in front of friend’s houses or in parking lots in Wal Mart. The idea of not paying any living costs is really cool too.

The only really large possessions I still have are my car (thinking about getting rid of it) and my bed and mattress. I really want to replace my bed and mattress with a luxurylite cot, but I think that might be pushing it a bit too far for the ladies.

So - that’s what’s been on my mind recently. Any feedback from you guys would be welcomed as always.

I wasn’t going to write this story because I think it was a super crappy thing for me to do and I’m not particularly proud of it. Then I told the story to a friend the other day and cracked up so much that I realized I had to write it.

Many years ago, when I was still in college, I was perhaps even more prone to prankery than I am now. I sat at a friends house, bored, playing with the stupid utilities that came with all Macintosh computers. One of them was the text to speech application. After the obligatory profanities, I got down to business. I called Pizza Hut and tried to type fast enough to carry on a conversation. It wasn’t quite doable. The clerk on the other end got frustrated and eventually, with an air of resignation, said, “Ma’am (it was a woman’s voice on the program), do you just want a pizza for free?”.

I cackled with glee (not synthesized) and gave a phony address. My friends and I laughed and rejoiced until we realized that our trophy was sent to someone else’s house. Then we felt cheated.

Several days later I was at another friend’s house. I was hungry. My friends and I concocted some handy phrases that we thought we might need in notepad, ready to be copy and pasted. We dialed pizza hut.

“Hello, this is Pizza Hut.”

“…”

We waited.

“Hello?”

“…”

“HELLO?”

“…”

They hung up. Perfect. Redial.

“Hello, this is Pizza Hut.”

“You hung up on me,” our mechanical voice droned, “please do not discriminate against me.”

“Umm. I’m sorry. Can I help you?”

“Due to years of unhealthful smoking of marijuana and nicotine cigarettes my voicebox has failed like a retarded child.”

I’m not making this up.

“Oh, ok. I’m sorry.”

“Silence.”

“Ok.”

“I would like to order a pizza”

“Ok, what would you like?”

“A cheese pizza. For free.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We can’t do that.”

“You hung up on me. My people have suffered long enough”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t hear you.”

“My voicebox has failed… ”

“Ok, I’m sorry.”

“I will speak with your manager.”

“Ok.”

Muffled whispers could be heard in the background, trying to discuss the situation.

“Hi. I’m the manager. What can I help you with?”

“Your employee insulted me and hung up on me. It was rude. I demand free pizza.”

“Well, I can’t really do that…”

“My life is filled with despair and lonliness. Please do not add to my troubles.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’d be happy to send you a free pizza”

We gave him our address, and then panic set in. This prank was about to move from behind the anonymous cloak of a telephone to a face to face confrontation. We did what any reasonable person would do - we got Orac to answer the door.

I think most groups of friends, especially in college, have that one guy who will do anything. Maybe it’s for attention, maybe it’s due to insanity, or maybe it’s a combination. Orac once bit a chunk out of a stick of deoderant, and on another occasion he drank an entire bottle of balsamic vinegar.

We hid behind couches when the doorbell rang. Orac answered confidently, handed the delivery guy a tip, and took the pizza. No issues. No suspicion.

So we got cocky.

A week later we called Pluckers, a local chicken wing shack. Again, we began our routine.

“My voicebox has failed like a…”

Moving beyond the minor leagues of one pizza, I ordered 100 wings. Stories of our prank had spread and we had an audience to feed. I told them that “years of solitude and a sedentary lifestyle have caused massive weight gain. I must feed.”

Feeling rather brassy, I volunteered to answer the door. We waited half an hour and no one showed up. Forty five minutes passed. After an hour we assumed that they were onto us. It’s not like we were subtle.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

People scurried to their hiding places and I opened the door with a big smile.

My smile vanished when I saw that behind the delivery boy was an older man in a button down shirt. He was the manager.

“What’s up with the voice, kid?”

“Excuse me?”

I was scared.

“The robot voice? You think that’s funny?”

“OH! I’m so sorry. That’s Maria! I’m her caretaker… she lost her voice box after years of smoking, so I get to live here for free to help her with errands and stuff.”

There was a long pause. They didn’t fully buy it, but then again they didn’t know that I was lying.

“I’m sorry about her,” I added. “She’s a little bit bitter and she can be rude. She should have waited until I got home and had me call.”

They were puzzled. Should they confront me or just give me the giant box of wings they held? They submitted.

“It’s no problem. We only had 50 wings left. I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course. I’m sorry again if she was rude.”

“It’s ok.”

I handed them a tip and took the bounty inside. We each feasted upon 7 wings.