I recently realized that I, like so many women, keep dating the same type of guy. If I make (out with) the mistake over and over and expect different results- they say that’s the definition of insanity. I’d personally like to avoid the cliché that all women are crazy. So I’m attempting to analyze my dating patterns.
Maybe if I can make some sense out of the mess of my love life I can stop this loop-de-loop of Mr. Wrong.
Interesting Discoveries from My Dating History Research and Reflection
#1. Three men have ever dumped me. Two out of those three got hideous forearm tattoos not long after said break ups. 66%! Coincidence? Impossible. Hilarious? Incredibly. Indication I have terrible taste in men? You betcha.
#2. The vast majority of men I have slept with claimed to be insomniacs (I go for guys who like to complain)….but then had no problem sleeping til noon (I go for guys who waste their lives).
#3. The last two guys I dated were both into the ludicrous “entertainment” that is pro wrestling. If a person is desensitized to watching grown men beat the shit out of each other with little injury, seems likely he won’t realize the consequences of beating the shit out of my heart. Experience tells me it’s true.
#4. I have a demonstrated pattern of falling for guys with clear signs of substance abuse. Do I hope to be so alluring he’ll love me more than Nancy Whiskey? Adore Mary Lane more than his long time beloved, Mary Jane? I don’t find myself competing with other women for the affections of men, I compete with inanimate objects. How fucked up is that?
#5. Five for five of the last guys I’ve dated couldn’t afford to take me out to dinner. That’s fine. I’m not going to dump a guy for going dutch. The problem pattern was that 3 out of the 5 couldn’t afford unlimited MetroCards. That’s the monthly subway pass, it costs $112. These fellas couldn’t afford $112 upfront, two even canceled dates cause they couldn’t afford the trip! How do I react? Not one, not two, but THREE times? Oh no! I can’t be shallow and dump a guy for not having enough money! THAT was my thought, not You’re a bum. I don’t date bums. This might be the new definition of insanity.
The broke, artsy, substance abuser, possessing questionable taste. He thinks I’m amazing. Probably because he’s amazed I’m giving him the time of day. This, ladies and gentlemen, this is “my type”:
Well not anymore. I’m done with that type. Forever. It’s the end of an era, friends, I’m calling it the end of my Bohemian Bum Man-Child phase. This is serious. Nothing, not even if he looks like Ryan Gosling, can make me go back. No joke. Guys, cyber bully the shit out of me if you think I’m falling off the wagon.
It’s the dawn of a new era. I’ll be 28 years old in two weeks, this comes not a moment too soon. This is the dawning of…okay I don’t know exactly what to call this new era…yet. But I think I’m gonna like it. The first man I’m dating as part of this new phase doesn’t have an unlimited Metrocard. Because he has a car. A Prius. (Plus he composts, this is enough to melt a California-NYC transplant’s heart.) He doesn’t think I’m amazing just for giving him the time of day. In fact I’m not sure he thinks I’m amazing at all…yet. I think he’s sweet, funny, kind, and smart. Amazing? I’m not sure either. I hope we both stick around long enough to find out.