"I'm single because I was born that way."
We’re not yet corporate executives, doctors, lawyers, etc. At least most of us aren’t. So we’re just in this no-man’s land of emerging adulthood. Still calling our parents when we can’t make rent or when we don’t know why our check engine light is on. But we live our day-to-day maintaining that we are independent (even though most of us don’t pay our cell phone bills…) And this is the first time that we are. So naturally, most of my single friends seem to think that with this independence should come the ability to attract some nice (read: decent) men (read: boys.) We have good jobs, we’re going places and we can actually afford to get our eyebrows done now. So where them boys at? Why are they not falling over themselves to take me and my single friends out to dinner?
I have a few theories, but they seem to all center around one thesis statement: BOYS ARE IDIOTS.
And I think I’ll believe that statement until I’m six feet under. I don’t think I’ve been sure of anything more than this. The males of our species have NO CLUE what to do/say/expect/act like in the presence of a smart, beautiful and cunning woman, such as myself. Oh, yeah. And my friends. I have two best friends that are boys, not yet men. I am constantly trying to tell them how wrong they are in their interactions with women. (“No, you cannot split the check.”)
I pride myself in thinking that all the smart and nice things they do for their significant others/crushes can be traced back to advice that I’d given them, but I suppose their mothers would say the same thing. Anyways, I’ve asked them time and time again, “What am I doing wrong here?” And they always respond, “Nothing. Well… maybe – you’re a little dominating. You just have a strong personality.”
Hmm. That’s something I can stick in my mouth and chew on for a while. I have views. And I voice them. Therefore, no man can deal with my brazen ways. So what ever shall I do? Flutter my eyelashes and laugh at the dumb and inconsiderate jokes this guy with a terrrrrible comb over is telling me at the bar, and say, “Oh, jeez, Billy. You’re sooooo funny!” “Well, I’m sure you’re right. You did spend a summer in DC with your uncle.” “I’ll take another cranberry and vodka - easy on the vodka.”
I can’t. I physically can’t. So, I’ve decided to take Reggie Bush’s advice to Kim K: “You do you and I’ll do me. Peace and love.” I can’t focus my energy on trying to be someone else’s “perfect” when I think I’m pretty damn close to mine.
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