Recently while I was hanging out with three of my girlfriends, I drafted a text message to send to a guy. It was the type of text message that had to simultaneously say, “I’m cool but not conceited,” and “I’m both fun and funny.” You can imagine the pressure.
After drafting the text message I did what any normal girl would do: I passed it around one-by-one so that my friends could read it and help me weigh in on whether or not I should send it. The text message went through a series of rigorous examinations to make sure it was send-worthy. We did focus groups on whether or not it was funny enough. We held caucuses on whether or not I came off too strong in the text. We made graphs and charts to determine if I’d waited the necessary amount of time since he texted me last.
At a concert last night I was patiently waiting for the opening act to go on when I overheard a few drunken 40 year-old women passing some life advice down to two 20 year-old girls seated behind me. Hardcore eavesdropping, I overheard some surprisingly wise advice from one of the 40 year-old women. I’m still not clear how the topic came up or if this advice was at all solicited, but this woman began to talk about life and love. And while the advice wasn’t directed at me, I think I might take it.
This 40 year-old woman looked at the 20 year-old girls and said, “Girls, when you get a boyfriend you have to treat it like a job. You have to always be willing to upgrade. Just like everything in life.”
This holiday season, in the presence of several of my fully-grown, 401k-possessing, gainfully-employed cousins, I opened up an app on my phone in order to explain to them why the dating culture in college is so weird these days. And, as all of you literate folk who read the title of this blog post before clicking on it have probably guessed, yes it was Tinder. I’m sure there is a cooler, newer dating app I could’ve found, something like Hinge, or Bumble, or GrubHub, but I’m not with-it enough to have tried out any of the new and cool ones. Also, I’m beginning to think I might be using GrubHub wrong.
I have a fake boyfriend and, before I get too far into the details, I know this makes me sound a little pathetic. But hear me out. I’ve gotten to a point in my perpetually-single life where I feel the need to compensate for never having an answer to the question, “Anyone special, these days?” My stand-in long-time answer used to be, “lots of guys and none of them are special,” but this sort of makes me sound like I have a parade of men marching through my love life, which is just not true. So I’ve devised a new answer for when I’m inevitably asked that at large family gatherings or for when I run into a friend I haven’t seen in a while. And I’ve put a lot of effort into creating someone who I think is the perfect fake boyfriend. He goes by the name Ryan Gosling.