Instagram Sunglass Selfies Story Series

These stories and many more can be found by following this link to my instagram account -> @AlexRapine

The Red Wheelbarrow Bookstore

“The Fires of Lust: Sex in The Middle Ages, by Katherine Harvey, is a funny title for a book,” he thought while standing in The Red Wheelbarrow Bookstore. Is it new? Is that why it's on the front table? He picked it up and before even opening it thought “is it weird if the salesclerk sees me immediately pick up a book about sex? Too late now. ‘Medieval medicine suggested it is possible to die from having too much, or too little, sex… The Church taught that virginity was the ideal state.’ Yup I remember that.” He opened to somewhere in the middle and read the chapter title “Men with Men. Of course it fucking does, he thinks.
“Just like therapy, reading a book about sex is sure to make you gay. Well it’s only a coincidence.”
Or is it? 1 in 228? Those are long odds but more likely than winning the lottery. Could this be a sign? A message from a higher power?
“No yeah, you walked in with your male friend to browse and fate or the three older ladies running this bookshop or God or chance put that book where you’d see it then compelled you to open to page 128.”
He didn’t perhaps think this so much as feel it.
The kind old gray haired librarian said to him “sorry we weren’t open yet when you came by earlier! We open at 1 but take lunch at 2.”
How Parisian of you, he thought.
“No worries! We went and smoked cigarettes to kill time.”
“Oh. Do you think that was wise?”
“For my health? No.”
“I see. Well it has been one of those days.”
“Yes.”
“We’re getting Vancouver weather.”
“San Francisco too. We used to live there,” he said, pointing to his male friend.
We? Why did I say it like that? I didn’t mean we lived there TOGETHER together.
“Do you get soggy feet there?”
“Used to but it doesn't rain much there any more.”
“Funny how fast that happened.”
“Truly.”
He allowed himself to be talked into buying a copy of A Portrait of The Artist as a Young Man, by James Joyce.
“You may not have to read it now but you will have to at some point in your life,” the gray haired book seller said.
He had browsed and chatted far too long to politely leave empty handed.
The men left.
His friend turned to him and remarked “that was a pretty good little lesbian book store.”

Brandenburg Airport (BER)

If you ever find yourself flying out of Brandenburg Airport (BER), in Berlin, make sure to get there 3 hours early because they like to get to know each traveler personally, in the security line. The x-ray man gave me what amounted to a deep tissue massage. I thought he was gonna make me floss. I tipped him.
Once they have examined each of the items in your luggage, with intrigue and a thoroughness I don’t even apply to my own hygiene, you will enter through the duty free where if it has just dawned on you how you’ve forgotten to buy a kilo of Toblerone you may avail yourself of their more than ample selection. Once you’ve stowed the chocolate and two cartons of Gauloises Red 400s (millimeters?), you will surely require the offerings of the store front to your immediate left. It sells one thing every traveler needs: baby clothes. Have you been in Germany so long you’ve in fact procreated? I know, we’ve all been there. I would say “you’re in luck” but what kind of airport would we be if we offered no resource for last minute infant sized onesies that say Bayern-Munich? Truly luck has nothing to do with it.
We do not however expect you to be early for your flight at the gate because we have only 40 seats per terminal and no outlets.
Also make sure to dress to impress as everyone here looks like a background actor or a mens warehouse model or as if an AI designed a human purely based on viral TikToks.

I cleared my phone so I lost a lot of good sunglass selfies so I apologize if this isn’t my best work in that regard.

Partnered Brooklyn Couples

They are all partnered Brooklyn couples that went to Oberlin or Brown or NYU.
They live together, work well paying jobs, their families have vacation homes, and they will all be married soon.
They are all named Chris and Sam or Sam and Kris.
“I work at a start up. We sell cookie dough.”
I am killing with this crowd because I seem strange and wiley by comparison but really its just depression.
I beat them all at pool and they thank me for it.
We are at Alibi; a dive bar.
“This place is pretty cool,” they say.
“It’s a good one yeah,” I reply.
“You’ve been here before?”
“Only every time I’m in Fort Greene.”
They tell me to start going by Lex.
I humor this and accept the moniker for the evening.
“We should go to our friend’s restaurant in Greenpoint.”
“For sure, we’re like two blocks from the G train.”
“The cab will be here in 15 minutes.”
“There’s like a foot and a half of snow the train is probably faster.”
“Just hop in our cab there’s four of us.”
“Ok.”
Two days later I get a Venmo request for $8; my share of said Uber.

I bought these at a truck stop in New Jersey. The clerk had worked there for 25 years and highly recommended them.