Remember that one guy who broke into my house and ate all my toast?

by Joy Monger

Dating is hard. And weird.

First there is the pain of even figuring out if you’re “dating”. I’ve been on dates and didn’t realize it. Often I’ve thought I was on a date but turns out it wasn’t. He paid–is that a date? He didn’t pay–is it not a date??? We made out. With tongue. That means he likes me, right? Not always, silly girl.

And the dates themselves; sweet Jesus it’s like being pecked to death by a duck. There’s bad jokes, and worse yet, bad hair. Wasted time. Wasted money. Too much booze, not enough teeth. Plus somehow I always end up wearing uncomfortable pants and too much blush. (Why do I channel Dolly Parton when trying to woo a mate??)

And that’s if I am lucky enough to even meet someone date-worthy. There’s definitely whole long stretches with no dates at all and plenty of solo nights of bad internet tv and popcorn for dinner.

But you know what makes dating bearable?

The knowledge that still being single means I didn’t settle and hitch my wagon permanently to any of the weirdos I used to date.

Seriously. We’re talking real weirdos.

And at the time I really thought they were great. With a completely straight face I have said the following:

“I love how he knows all the lyrics to the most obscure Ace of Base songs!”

“He really is great at sharpening knives.”

“He only owns one pair of pants because he is into living simply; that’s dedication!”

“It’s really funny how he quotes Will Ferrel movies all the time; I love it when he calls me a “smelly pirate hooker”.”

“He’s really sweet when he’s drunk and luckily he’s drunk most of the time!”

“All that rollerblading really makes his butt look good.”

“We’ll really get serious once his legal issues are cleared up and he’s allowed back into the country.”

“I don’t mind that he doesn’t drink, doesn’t watch tv, doesn’t eat chocolate or meat, because it gives us plenty of time to read out loud to each other.”

“He looks like Uncle Jesse from Full House! Only Mexican!”

Thank god I’ve since been to therapy, stopped dating off the internet, realized I’m a catch and potential suitors should want to buy me flowers, make me laugh and wear clean pants, at the very least.

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