Which Odd Company Character Would I Date?

Odd Company are delicious little RTDs, a treat! Known not only for their plentiful flavour, but the array of characters on each of their cans, Massive decided to ask the big question: which one of these gremlins are my soulmate? Who am I going to grow old with? Have wrinkly, old person sex with? Only one way to find out.  

The Fancy One: Gin, Cucumber, & Lime with Sparkling Water

Yes. Love her. She is the moment. The turtleneck is a perfect touch of cool girl energy, paired with laidback jeans. The Odd Company describes her as “A flashy night on the town, or a potluck in the suburbs, this little number is here to raise the tone.” Oh my God, my dream woman. 

But let’s talk about the sunglasses! Lowered just enough to see her piercing eyes, my gaze meets hers across the bar. She’s with her friends, drinking gin and dancing to Billie Eilish. Her hoop earrings and slick, her short bob calls to me, my groins. We make love on a fire escape in the apartment her parents pay for. I try to ignore the flash of rejection when she refuses to kiss me after oral. 

She studies textile design, or photography. She helps me view the world in a better, sweeter light. She probably has a favourite Sex and the City character (Charlotte). I’m a Samantha so we work well together for the precious few weeks we spend together. In the end, she ends up ghosting me, and will marry an investment banker out on Waiheke Island. It’s a small intimate affair of about 200 people. I wasn’t invited. 

The Cheeky One: Vodka, Peach & Passionfruit with Sparkling Water

She’s the life of the party, baby! Warm, bubbly with a go-to karaoke song always up her sleeve. 

Peek the fanny pack? Yeah, she’s prepared to party. Primed with gear, chapstick, chewing gum, everything a girl could possibly need or desire. 

However, she is the type to, well, be cheeky. She’d send me a nude then immediately fall asleep, or disappear in town for two hours before being spotted in Macca’s flirting with someone she picked up on her *adventures*. I’m not the jealous type, but she might just bring it out in me. No one wants to be that person, you know? The sex, however, would be amazing. Just so, so many sex toys. Vibrators beyond pure human imagination. Dildos longer than my forearms. 

In the end, her spontaneity and flirtatiousness will be the end of us. I can’t compete with every random she bumps into a club bathroom, no matter how hard I try. The night will end in tears (me) and pelvic thrusting to ABBA (her).

The Party Guy: Vodka, Lemon, Lime & Yuzu with Sparkling Water

Urgh. I hate him already. Odd Company describes him as “Lively, fun and a little bit unexpected, The Party Guy is here to turn up the volume on any occasion.” Okay sure, love that, but why does the illustration have to look so...sad? Like honestly, he just looks fucking pissed off and ready to cancel me on Twitter for taking too long in the bathroom (I like to pee, okay). The denim jacket is too normie (listen, make it either oversized or outrageously tight) and the party hat is just...weird. I know it’s meant to be ironic but the overall effect just frightens me. 

We’d hook up, once. Okay, maybe a couple of times, but that’s all, I promise. He’s a massive prick, but there’s something about his bare walls and mattress on the floor that keeps me crawling back for more. He doesn’t even know where the clitoris is! He’d say something carelessly insensitive in bed about the size of my thighs. Why am I like this? I swear, I need therapy. Anyway, he’d end up rejecting me, naturally. Why am I being rejected in all these hypothetical scenarios. Maybe I do really need help... 

The Total Package: Rum, Pineapple & Lime with Sparkling Water

Um hello, hottie alert? But also, on second thoughts, maybe not. He looks like a man written by a man. The tight white t-shirt? The glasses that OBVIOUSLY have no lenses in them. And the book being held up as a prop of his “intellect”, urgh! There aren’t even any words in his book!! It’s blank babe, fucking run. 

Anyway, we match on Tinder. He uses too many emojis, I’m too drunk to care. We hook up in his car because I don’t want to spend more than 30 minutes in his company. I was right to be cautious (too much tongue). 30 minutes was a generous estimate, too. I ask him to drop me off at the nearest Night ‘n Day for some wedges, hoping to never hear from him again. 

I was wrong. He messages the next day, and the day after as well. Like sure, I get it, ghosting is a bit of a dick move, but it was a one-night-stand, not a 20-year relationship. Just...move on? He doesn’t. His messages go from crying-face emojis to passive-aggressive thumbs up. Eventually, I block him. Good for me.

The Random One: Vodka, Raspberry & Pomegranate with Sparkling Water

She’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but almost too cool, you know? The cowboy hat, the one earring, the sleeve of tattoos. I want to be friends with her but I’m unsure about full-on penetration. And let’s just say the obvious: what’s up with the shoe over the shoulder? Where’s the other shoe? Is she wearing it? Is it a one-on one-off situation? Is she just casually barefoot or wearing socks? What’s UP babe?! 

We meet at a party and agree to meet up at an alleyway cocktail bar the next night. She confidently mispronounces the drinks list and vapes inside when the bartender isn’t looking. On the way back to mine (I still don’t know where she lives) she talks about what a bitch her ex is. It’s all fine, but next to her I feel like a meek, shoe-wearing mouse. 

In bed, she’s on top. Obviously. As if that even needed to be stated. The fingering is aggressive, and I’m certain my next-door neighbours can hear us at this rate. The next day she swipes some bread from my flatmates pantry and I never see her again. I wish her well.