Why I'm Single (Part Three)

I swear on all that is holy that this is not going to be another creepy Ode to Lee Pace. Really. I promise. Do you believe me? Yes? Sucker. No, I'm joking, it's really not. Mostly because I've finally thought of a new reason! Oh, this is going to be joyful...

So, remember back in high school when dating used to be fun and exciting and you were all full of rainbow giggles and hope for the future? What happened to that? Am I the only one who has gotten bitter and cynical at the ripe old age of 24? Because, honestly, I can't bear the thought of going out with a new person right now. I'm basically Vince Vaughn at the beginning of Wedding Crashers (except I write my own lengthy run-on-sentence-filled diatribes, a-thank you very much). Am I alone in feeling that dating has morphed into something equal parts horrific, mortifying, nauseating, and excruciatingly painful? It just makes me nervous. And not in that cute teenaged bouncy glitter eyeshadow girly way, either. More like in a Woody Allen-ish way, except I'm fully aware that my quirkiness is not remotely endearing or funny anymore (cough/wink/nudge), or sometimes even a Howard Hughes-esque way where I barricade myself in my bedroom, bite my nails compulsively, develop an involuntary facial tick or two, and regularly direct inappropriate emotional outbursts at the wrong people. What's that, now? Men lined up around the block, you say? I think not.

Now, I realize that what I'm about to say makes me a total traitor to the feminist cause, but as I ran on the treadmill last night while watching the latest episode of Mad Men, I kept thinking that life would be so much simpler if all I had to do on a date was look vaguely like a Kewpie doll, act sweet and feeble-minded, laugh at Don Draper's sexist jokes (while he grabs my ass and calls me 'sweetheart' in a painfully demeaning way, but I've made my peace with it because sweet baby Jesus, that man is DREAMY, am I right??), and light the occasional Lucky Strike. I'm so tired of having to keep up high-brow, intelligent conversation all the time. Particularly when my date looks absolutely NOTHING like Lee Pace...or like Don Draper, for that matter. AND when I'd much rather be talking about whichever TV show I'm newly obsessed with, or just complaining generally about life and humanity as a collective.

Personally, I think playing dumb is grossly underrated as a dating tool. Look at how well it worked for Scarlett O'Hara (before that pesky Civil War incident, that is). I wish I could pull that off, but I'm a much bigger fan of the post-war Scarlett (That brazen hussie! God bless her). She was so much more interesting, and far less irritating than when she played the simpering nitwit. Alas, I have met PUH-LENTY of insipid females and wouldn't you know it, they are literally ALL married, engaged, or at least seriously involved in one way or another. I'm sorry, but I find this a bitter pill to swallow, gentlemen. I've had more intellectually stimulating interactions with inanimate objects and moderately sized dogs than I've had with some of these girls, and yet some idiot somewhere always seems to want to tether himself permanently to what amounts in essence to a mental toddler with breast implants. Clearly I am destined to die alone (save the cat farm, natch). Oh well, maybe now I'll just surrender to my fate and give up the dating scene altogether. I feel like that might be best for everyone. Then again, there's always plastic surgery...