By Stephanie Rogers
I took exactly ONE science class in college. I’m not sure what it even was (college was a blur of bad decisions and sitting through class in a fever pitch of hangovers and dehydration), but I do remember one thing: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. As much as I would just like to spend all my time roasting the men of Asheville, it just wouldn’t be fair to leave the ladies out! How’s that for modern feminism?
The EDM Rave Girl
Drug of choice: public nudity, sick bass drops, and strange pills that may or may not be research chemicals
First date: sucking on each other’s tongues at Funk Jam
Some people want fame, some people want meaning, some people just want to headbang at shows and live life like there’s no tomorrow. The EDM Rave Girl got matching Bassnectar tattoos with 2,843,098 of her closest friends at Electric Forest last year, and she’s still wearing her Bonnaroo wristband from 2015. The first time you go home with her, you realize she has an entire wall in her room where she tapes up her festival wristbands and the wrappers from tabs of acid. You’re not sure how she affords her life, since she’s taking off for some weird EDM fest every other weekend with people that wear animal costumes and masks, but whatever. She regularly has “detox days” where she takes a Xanax and goes to hot yoga to eliminate the toxins from her system. You worry about her drug consumption and her often-strange taste in clothes. Is it a skirt or a tapestry? Bra or bandanna? You’ll probably never know.
Cause of breakup: you catch her sucking on someone else’s tongue at Funk Jam
The Wiccan Priestess
Occupation: vegan tattoo artist
Drug of choice: the high she gets from casting hexes on rival tattoo artists in town
First date: attending a burlesque show
The Wiccan Priestess is intentionally vague about whether or not she’s actually involved in witchcraft, but being “dark and edgy” is her whole vibe. You meet her at Crow and Quill one night, and have a long, mezcal-fueled conversation about astrology (you’re talking out of your ass), where she tells you she’s a TRIPLE Gemini like that’s supposed to impress and horrify you. Her number one hobby besides tattooing moon phases across other people’s backs is collecting herbs and drying them for use in her spells and potions, which she is also very cryptic about and won’t really explain. The most she will say is that there’s some “weird shit out there.” Since the Wiccan Priestess NEVER makes an important decision without consulting the stars, she asks you for your birth date, time, and location on your second date. She attends new moon gatherings at some weird commune all the way out in Canton, and refuses to say whether or not they are sexual events. Her teeth are ever so slightly fang-like, and you have literally never seen her laugh.
Cause of breakup: you confess that you don’t really believe in tarot and you don’t think it’s going to work out, so you break it off. (So Taurus of you.) Three days later, a dead rabbit appears on your doorstep.
Occupation: Mission Hospital
Drug of choice: gluten
First date: Thirsty Thursday at the Asheville Tourists game
The Registered Nurse moved here for her job at Mission Hospital, but she’s probably not going to stay, because she’s so weirded out by Asheville culture in general. She likes the mountains, but she can’t understand why the girls don’t shave their armpits (soo gross!) and why all the homeless people can’t just get, like, jobs? She’s a little basic, sure, but after the Hippie Chick, basic sounds good. Really, the edgiest thing about her is the fact that she has she has a cross sign tattooed on her underwear line. (It had to be easy to hide, because her parents threatened to stop paying for nursing school if she got a tattoo.) She lives at the Verge or some other boring apartment complex built in 2016, and decorates her apartment with inspirational quote decals and art from Target. Her favorite shirt is a tank top that says “Adulting Is Hard” and she has a copy of “Yes Please” by Amy Poehler on her bedside table.
Cause of breakup: you break up with her when she drunkenly asks you how many kids you want to have. Nope!The UNCA Undergrad
Occupation: full time student
Drug of choice: correcting people’s grammar on the Internet
First date: holding her hair back while she pukes behind the Lazy Diamond
The UNCA Undergrad exists more on Instagram that she exists in the real world. She has an Angel Olsen lyric as her Instagram bio, and obsessively updates her story with what she’s eating, who she’s with, and bizarre, performative selfies (which she considers to be a version of activism). She says she’s looking for a serious relationship, but she also has her Venmo username on her Tinder profile as an “experiment.” She’s an international studies major and asks you if you ever took a semester off, whether you liked it or not, and if you think she should get bangs. You aren’t sure if her glasses are real. On her ankle, she has a poorly healed stick and poke tattoo of an alien head that she got in the dorms when she was drunk.
The Dready Girl
Occupation: healing arts practitioner
Drug of choice: fasting, chanting, and Dambiana spliffs she makes with French Broad co-op herbs
First date: she invites you to her “in-home clinic” (read: living room) for free acupuncture, which seems like a sweet gig until you realize that she’s not licensed and is just arbitrarily poking you with needles.
Shouldn’t you know better than to sleep with a woman who uses the words “kundalini awakening” in real life conversation? You have no idea what kundalini energy is (sounds sexual!) but it seems sexual, and she’s definitely VERY into it. When she’s not exploring the wonders of tantric sex with her primary partner, the Yoga Moaner, she’s working on improving her hula hooping skills, belly dancing, and other various circus arts that she performs for petty cash at LEAF. She’s had her dreads since, like, 1999, and spends her free time accessorizing them with beads, friendship bracelets, and the bones of roadkilled animals scraped off the side of Patton Avenue. When you bring up cultural appropriation and how she should maybe vote in the midterm elections, she tells that you that white people are oppressed too, and the best way to change the world is by shifting our cosmic consciousness with breathwork.
BONUS ROUND: Your recently divorced manager
Occupation: not writing you up at work when she definitely should
Drug of choice: White wine, OK Cupid
First date: groping you at the employee Christmas party
Your recently divorced manager is just FINE, thanks! She has two kids that she never talks about around you, like that’s somehow going to change the fact that she was happily married until very recently. Prior to the divorce, she was a very disciplined person, but she’s gotten a little unhinged. She spends a lot of time sharing memes on Facebook about “knowing your worth” and why millennials are ruining everything, as well as oversharing details of her personal life. She is the queen of self help, and attends Pure Yoga on a weekly basis to get back in shape. At the employee Christmas party, she gets absolutely wasted with you, and you have an unfortunate tryst while her kids are asleep. When it’s over, she starts crying.
Cause of breakup: she’s your manager. Also, she cried.
How about Already-Fat-and -Ugly-Chick-Who-Covers-Herself-with-Tats-and-Studs (all the while complaining about how the world is obsessed with appearances). Her motto is “Why not?”
Her drug of choice: bacon and cigarettes (she claims to be vegan, but C’MON, REALLY?).
Reason for breakup: he sobered up and got his vision back.
Interesting to see the responses here compared to her previous article.
Forgot the elitist baristas. The ones who mistake conflict for abuse. And constantly judgement slinging assholes who slither around this town without care or caution.
Looking forward to Stephanie’s take on the [insert number] men that gay men will sleep with and the [insert number] women that gay women will sleep with. And will she do the same for the trans community and the gender fluid? This is Asheville, after all.
WTF? Perpetuating the rape culture where all pretty women are just waiting for some man’s dick.
Wow. Too funny, I hope people take it in the humorous nature in which it is intended. I know and love many local women that fit many of these generizations. (Platonical love, that is.)
I look forward to the next ones for Men, and lgbt etc.
This post is highly offensive and demeaning to women. Shame on you.
You need one thats a fucking hair stylist and works downtown and is a witch and had those scissors tattooed all over her and cheetah print and drinks a ton and shit. Love this BTW.
Forgot the intense hiker/road biker/CrossFit life coach
A shitty opinion and judgmental attitude does not mean you are qualified to be a writer.
I will be sure to have asshole repellent spray and use it if you come near me.
Get a job. Like a real job. Something you could actually be good at and are qualified to do, otherwise, this would be a rag.
Gonna have to assume you’re a CrossFitter, this place is thick with them and you gave ’em a pass in both articles.