TORONTO – Since Coronavirus hit, local fuckboi Harold Borowitz, better known by self-proclaimed nickname “DJ Quicksand XII”, has reportedly sent so many unanswered “U up?” texts that time and space have lost all meaning for him.
“I’ve tried texts, DMs, and screaming into the black abyss, but not one chick has been DTF,” said Borowitz, 23, his fingers moving effortlessly between the “u” and “p” keys of the Nokia burner phone his long-distance girlfriend doesn’t know about. “It’s not like I have a 100% success rate, but I can usually bag 1 out of 3 hoes if I cast a wide enough net.”
Things went south after Borowitz was laid off from his regular bartending gig. Forced to cancel his Netflix subscription, he could no longer entice women with an offer to “Netflix and chill.” He added his body temperature to his Tinder bio, updating it in-real-time, but was shocked to find that no matches would risk a deadly illness for his “dick that won’t quit,” though these dick-related claims remain unverified.
Borowitz said he had no choice but to double down on the classic “U up?” strategy, going weeks without sleeping, showering, or fashioning his hair into a man bun. That’s when outputting a constant stream of texts became the entire purpose of his conscious existence.
“I considered taking a hiatus, but if I’m not texting ‘U up?’ who am I?” said Borowitz. “Then again, if a man texts ‘U up?’ in the forest and no one’s there to hear it, does it even count toward his street cred with the boys? Shit, I’m basically Socrates.”
Friends and family have expressed growing concern for Borowitz’s wellbeing. His mom, Helen, said he already suffered from severe carpal tunnel syndrome before the lockdown. “I texted him to ask if I should drop off masks. All he replied was, ‘U up?’” she said. “I had no idea what he was talking about. It was 1 in the afternoon.”
Borowitz, who confirmed he “can’t feel his fingers,” admitted he’s not sure if he’s been quarantined for one hour or 72 years, nor is he certain other people still exist. For now, he’s focused on spreading his message that, “as much as COVID-19 impacts front-line workers, it’s also a total cock block.”
“Each time I text a hot girl, I’m met with resounding silence from deep within the vastness of the void. And, for a moment, I think, ‘Maybe there’s more to life than banging bitches? Am I the one who was meant to be awake this whole time?’” he said. “But then I think then, ‘Nah. Try one more.’”
Eventually, Borowitz did receive a message that “screwed him good.” It was a Rogers alert for this month’s phone bill. At press time, he had incurred $5,657 in overage charges.