She had liked him for a while and she thought he liked her back.
Weeks of flirting, hair-flipping and fake laughing as he walked by, all came down to this one moment.
The fate of their whole relationship hung in the balance as she stared hopefully, waiting for him to make a move. “Did he like her?”
Suddenly her heart leapt as she saw the writing beneath the text bubble go from “Delivered 10:04 p.m.” to “Seen 10:05 p.m.”
Every glimmer of hope existed in the three dots that appeared next.
By “Received 10:07 p.m.” her heart was broken.
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.