To the guy I keep hooking up with (#$%#@!!)
For quite some time now, I’ve been perplexed by my attraction to you. I really don’t even like you that much! I think there’s this dark force around you that keeps drawing me in, much like my penchant for cheap vodka in large quantities. Actually, that’s where my slow but sure downfall began, the combination of said liquor and your slightly above average good looks that lead me to do Things of Which We Shall Not Speak (TWWSNS). The worst part is, it’s not just me who falls prey, it’s a truly alarming number of girls who have done TWWSNS with you and have thus given you the undeserving status of a lothario. Why?? Well, here’s what I’ve worked out.
You’re pretty good looking. You’re kind of pale and on the skinny side, but you’ve got a naughty little “come to me, my pretty” grin and puppy dog eyes. You are vastly superior to the nasty dudes my friends and I give demeaning nicknames to, like Womanly Body with the Ostrich Head, but you are not elevated to the status of the Ridiculously Good Looking Guy who I make obscene comments about, and occasionally to, if inebriated enough. Attainably Attractive Guy, if we were to date (hypothetically! calm the fuck down) I’d be the slightly hotter half of the couple, as I am firmly in the good-looking category. One point for me, zero for you.
You’re pretty smart. But to be honest, if we were to hypothetically move beyond our friendship based on convenience and other TWWSNS, I’d be the smarter of the two of us. You know that class we have together? You were so crushed when you got a B on the midterm (I got an A). And do you think I was paying attention to that crap about standard deviations when you were sitting next to me in that freshly washed t-shirt with your favorite badass derivative rock band logo on it? Now, I know your stance on laundry, so it was a nice treat to sit next to you smelling so nice…made me want to throw the books off your desk in the direction of the whorefaced sorority girl that flirts shamelessly with you and straddle you right there! And I still did better than you on the test that you studied so hard for, Attainably Attractive Guy! Two points me, zero points you. But then I came close to engaging in TWWSNS since you looked so damn sad and gave me that cute “aw shucks” look when you showed me your test grade…so, minus one, Mildly Slutty Girl.
But okay, I’ll admit that you’re pretty funny…you do things like draw me little pictures of the previously mentioned gum snapping, gym obsessed, bread, sugar, and soul deprived, hugely whorefaced sorority girl foaming at the mouth and make self-deprecating jokes about what an asshole you are, even though I laugh and deny it, I know it’s true and you know it’s true so let’s put an end to that charade. You also know how effective the approach of giving constant, mostly sincere compliments is, and thanks man, I have heard I look like that B-list celebrity before! Whoops, how’d that button get undone?
But let’s move on to the crux of your success. Your unwavering, rather unwarranted, borderline ridiculous confidence. This is why you win. Attainably Attractive Guy 2,348 points, Mildly Slutty Girl 1. This is why you get all kinds of girls that, realistically in a world that makes any kind of sense, you should not be able to get! Which isn’t to say you don’t settle for the occasional dog, cause that one gal with the lazy eye was a real low point in your repertoire. Your complete confidence that you could have me naked in your bed as fast as you can say “want another shot?” combined with your moderately entertaining sense of humor and attainably attractive looks seems, ridiculously enough, to be responsible for times like when we went in your friend’s bathroom and did TWWSNS.
Attainably Attractive Guy, you’re no good for me. You sleep around too much, could very well have an/several incurable STD(s), and are largely an asshole, so I’m trying to give you up. I’ve been thinking about this for some time, but you sealed the deal when you hit shamelessly on my (less attractive but larger bosomed) friend right in front of me. Dude, come on! So you know what, fuck the hell off. But unfortunately it seems that any Guy with Real Potential only coexists with the quality of Disappearing from the Face of the Earth…clearly a catch-22. Even so, I haven’t given up yet. I’m holding out for a hero…unless you’re in the area, and want to stop by my room to you know, study for stat. With my shirt off, possibly. Gimme a call!