The great writers that I aspire to be like (you know, Tucker Max and Hank Moody, but less slutty) have both successfully gotten dates as a result of their mighty pen. So, I might not be a New York Times best-selling author, but I’ve got a solid 200-person fan base. Surely there’s an eligible bachelor somewhere in the midst of my motley, loyal readers.
It’s no secret that I’m not exactly the most lucky-in-love girl in town. My recent relationship history plays out kind of like post-Brad Jennifer Aniston’s. In the last month alone, I’ve been proposed to outside of Suger’s, received a semi-nude photo from an ex’s best friend, and was practically broken up with by a guy that I never dated and rarely speak to. I’m not desperate enough to resort to eHarmony (sidenote: does anyone actually know someone who’s successfully obtained a relationship through a dating website?) but I’m certainly willing to make a mockery of my love life in the name of humor.
Single, male, non-smoker, and non-ugly? Read on.
- Must be taller than me. I’m only 5’2″. Hopefully no one is DQ-ed at this point in the game.
- Must hate home-cooked meals. I only know how to burn grilled cheese and boil Ramen noodles. For me, heating a Lean Cuisine evenly is a challenge. Plus, I really don’t like cleaning up. Which brings me to my next point:
- Must love doing household chores. I have mild allergies, debilitating enough to keep me from mowing lawns, dusting, sweeping, or folding laundry. Don’t worry: where I lack in domesticity, I make up for in charm and witticism.
- Must not be jealous. I have an inordinate amount of guy friends, and a large amount of them are ridiculously slutty. Not to worry, my personal choices do not reflect their excessive behavior. Think of it like opposites attract: I dig the non-whorish males, so I can be best friends with Gerard Butler Jr. without developing any awkward feelings.
- Must not have too many girl friends. I know, this seems contradictory considering my previous requirement. This clause is included not because I’m a jealous person, but because guys with more girl friends than guy friends are kind of gay. And trust me, I have plenty of gay friends as is.
- Must not be stupid. The closest I ever got to killing someone was a few months ago in Fayetteville. I was stuck wingmanning with a guy who believed my rosary necklace paid homage to Saint Boondock, and was befuddled by the plotline of Brink! I had a murder weapon in hand (a butter knife) but couldn’t come up with a decent alibi, so I refrained.
- Must still be fun. I’m not the kind of girl that likes to snuggle and go to bed at 9:00 on a Friday. At least not yet. I’m only 22, I’ve still got 4 or 5 good years left in me.
- Must be secure. And not just financially. I was once broken up with because the guy “couldn’t handle my success.” You read that correctly–it’s not just a plot device that happens on sitcoms. I’m going to be the CEO of a company one day. If your pansy-ass is uncomfortable with that, move back to Pleasantville.
- Must like good movies. If Facebook tells me that your favorite films are “Good Luck Chuck” and “American Pie: the Naked Mile,” there’s no need to waste your time.
- Must enjoy unusual hobbies. I enjoy dancing on coffee tabletops to the tune of the Beach Boys. I fly kites and go bowling on occasion. I enjoy visits to the firing range. I’m a champion putt-putter. I recently learned how to play croquet! It’s not going to work out if the only leisure activity you enjoy is going to the gym. Speaking of which:
- Must not consume protein shakes. I don’t exercise, and I don’t appreciate people who make me feel bad about that fact. I still fit into a size 2, so I see no need to subtract from the valuable time I spend with my soul mate, Netflix (heart health can wait). Guys that are too obsessed with their bodies creep me out. Especially guys with giant pecs…the only thing worse than giant pecs are mitties. This being said, men who acquire fit bodies by playing sports, running, biking, rock climbing, etc are encouraged to inquire.
- Must think my quirks are adorable. This includes (but is not limited to) my love for Chuck Klosterman, my inability to fall asleep without the TV on, my addiction to kimchi, and my gripping hatred of ketchup.
- Must have a good sense of humor. I’m a blogger. Know that occasionally, you’ll be the butt of my jokes. It’s okay, the abuse won’t be too bad–after all, if I date you, I’ll want people to believe that you’re cool-ish.
Miscellaneous Deal Breakers: if your hair is braided, if you tweet more than three times a day, if you “check in” at places on Facebook, if you’re into intravenous drugs, if your favorite music group is LMFAO, or if you want to get married and/or father children any time soon.
Note: if you resemble Jonathan Rhys Meyers or Val Kilmer before he gained 100 pounds, ignore all previous statements and call me immediately.