Flu-ridden friend making

As the world greatest procrastinator I have skills like few other, I justify it by saying that I work well under pressure (I don’t) and that 2am is my prime time (it’s definitely not). With all this in mind, clever me left my college assignment for the weekend before it was due and then ba-bam flu time. Horrible, sticky, sweaty, in bed flu. The assignment was to do something that we have never done and would never normally consider doing. I had intended to do something mega-badass: hanging out with the SA Police Force. An embarrassed croaky phone call from me had that cancelled. So what can I do from the comfort of my own bed? I doubt that Dexter marathons would be interesting for anyone to read about. So it’s time for me to enter that crazy, scary, world. The dark depths of the internet that I would never consider entering. Ooh yeah- it’s chat roulette time.

When Andrey Ternovsky, a Russian teenager, founded chat roulette in 2009 he had only the best intentions: to connect people across the world through video-chat. A bit like a random pen pall, you would get to know strangers with different cultural backgrounds. The nature of the internet meant that it quickly fell to disarray; with 89% of its users being male it gained a reputation for amateur porn. However many friends of mine claim to have met lovely naïve souls like themselves and had interesting philosophical discussions. One friend, a web designer, even uses it for product research.

Chat roulette has a few rules: you must be over 18 (check), you may not record any conversations (don’t know how- so check), no pornographic content (I’m okay thanks- check) and the simplest - you must have a webcam (check). Covered in blanket, pink nosed, roll of loo paper by my side and I was ready to go. Which lucky stranger would win my company today?

First screen showed a topless Brazilian man, I must’ve had nerves because that was a quick skip. Don’t know how ready I am for topless Brazilian men. The next three were all naked, skip skip skip. Fourth screen: a lovely looking young American girl. Yay, chat time! I put on my least perverted smile, trying my hardest not to look like a leukemia patient, and gently croak “Hi, I’m Alex, what’s your name?” that damn bitch skipped me! Whaaaaat?! How did she not want to converse with me? Wow, what an ego blow. It might be because I look like the bad end of Tuesdays with Morrie. With this in mind I removed the giant duvet covering my shoulders and replaced it with a friendly looking jumper, I blew my nose, put the loo roll out of sight, brushed my hair and looking ever so slightly better decided to try again.

Round 2: Here we go. After once again wading through the masses of penis, I was greeted by a friendly face. Mika, yay! An olive skinned, shaggy haired (sexy as hell) Bolivian. He points at himself “I Mika” I point at myself “I Alex”. Feeling very Tarzan/ Janey, but my god this boy is gorgeous. Could I have met my future husband over chatroulette? What an awesome kooky story to tell the kids. Such dark twinkly eyes. Mika starts gesticulating wildly, the sound is going a bit funny. Don’t leave me Mika! After a while I think I start to get what he’s saying, it sounds an awful lot like “Why you not eat the cookie?” Are those dark twinkly eyes a bit red? Could Mika be stoned? He carried on shouting “Why you not eat the cookie!” It might be my penchant for bad boys, but I am finding this adorable. I am obviously not giving the right response though as Mika pulls out what appears to be a Romany cream type biscuit and smashes it within his hands and then starts laughing manically. Whatthafuuuuuuu? Ok, this has just gotten weird- skip.

Is this really what has become of people? Have we taken this wonderful tool and let it make us strange as hell. I mean, Charlie the Unicorn? A bit weird, but is this what he has spawned? Low attention span, prone to nudity, nutella obsessed and super strange. I’ve always claimed that the internet has done to our mind what starbucks has done to our coffee. I love hazelnut lattes with half soymilk, they’re super great. I also loves cats that poo rainbows, hilarious, but surely I could’ve left that part of psyche untapped? Surely I don’t need to know that about myself, the same way that semi-soy hazelnut lattes are a gateway to weird shit like chocolamochatinis - surely Nyan cat is a gateway to more intense weird internet stuff.

For the third time I persevered through the fields of sausage to try and find a friendly face. And I struck gold. For years I have dreamt of living a happy farmers life in Portugal and who do I meet on chatroulette? A fully clothed, shell-shocked middle-aged farmer named Luis. He lives just out of Vila Real, a large wine-producing region, and farms the Verdelho grape. Frikkin’ golden. I doubt that he could have found someone as interested in his work as I was. He claims to be more of a sherry man himself. We conversed with great help from Google translate about wine, Nandos, lions, and all the fantastic things that made us different. We laughed about the people we’d seen before each other on the internet, he claimed to have seen a man in a bikini (“Why, Alex? Why would the man need to cover his nipples? What is wrong with these American men?”) I told him about Mika (“the beautiful ones are always crazy”). It was great, after 30 minutes, the internet connection cut out and we went our separate ways. But now I have proof! There are wonderful people out there!

Marilyn Manson (man of wisdom that he is) once said, “The internet is the trailer park for the soul.” Now that might be true: it’s gritty, dirty and strange. But even in trailer parks there are sunrises, sunsets and double rainbows. I would go so far as to say that 95% of chatroulette is pretty damn disgusting but hey, in the end it was a happy story. I learnt something new, I met someone new and I now have a tiny bit of hope.