Like many women, I’d like a man who has it all: a smoking hot bod, a winning personality, maybe a house in the Hamptons. But we all know that no one’s perfect, so if I couldn’t find a man who had everything I wanted, yes, I would be willing to date a day-old baguette.

Look, I know we all think Prince Charming is out there. He’s smart and good-looking and makes us laugh and hugs our mom and doesn’t make a face when we clip our toenails in public. But I’m not getting any younger, and maybe there is no perfect man for me! Even though I want a good-looking, stable man, I’m willing to compromise on “good-looking” and “man” —yeah, I’m fine dating this day-old loaf of bread. It’s not going to leave me, at least not until I buy some pate.

I dated the hot guys. I dated the guys who were obsessed with their jobs. I dated the guys who wanted families. I dated them all. I have literally dated every man I ever met—it’s kind of a long story. But none of them met all my criteria—specifically, the criteria that they be willing to stay with me forever. You know who will stay with me forever? This day-old baguette. Because it’s too stale to put peanut butter on it anymore, so it doesn’t run the risk of being chased out by my dog, unlike you, Steve.

I’m so tired of Tinder! At my age, I can’t just be swiping around anymore. If I were meant to meet Mr. Right on an app, I would have met him already, and also apparently I need to start paying them if I want to swipe right over 100 times per day? What indolence! I was about to delete the app altogether, but then I saw a great ad for cheap day-old bread at Le Pain Quotidien! I believe in miracles, and I believe Tinder wouldn’t have shown me that ad if it didn’t mean something, like that I intentionally swiped right on a Panera bread bowl two weeks ago.

Day-old baguettes really aren’t that bad—you’re being a little bit shallow. For example, they’re often half off. How much did you pay for your hot, good-looking boyfriend? Yeah, that’s right—you got him for free. Well, my day-old loaf just has higher standards than that, plus, it has sesame seeds. If I can’t find someone willing to move to Iceland with me, I should at least be with someone who can, if needed, become a crouton.

Don’t tell me I have no standards. I wouldn’t date a slice of bread. That’s like, basically no bread! And I wouldn’t date a two-day-old baguette—I’m just not into older guys. I wouldn’t date an English muffin—they’re not muffins, so why do they pretend to be? I need a man who’s comfortable with himself. But I think a day-old baguette could be the right match for me. Finally, a partner who doesn’t guilt me about my love of carbs! And I wouldn’t date a baguette less than 9 inches long. I’m a woman—I have needs.

I know what you’re thinking—this isn’t about Harry! No, I’m not dating a day-old baguette to get back at him; I think his gluten-allergy was imaginary anyway. You never even apologized for the time your husband tried to butter my date. And I’m sorry that Harry and I can no longer be at the same social events, but honestly, that was the case before I ran off to Bermuda with this fine sourdough wand.

Honestly, in many ways, my needs are being met better than ever before. Remember Paul—he was so hot, but he didn’t grow green if left out for too long, and that’s something I’m really looking for in a man. Ron had a great job but did he taste best with garlic and butter? No. No he didn’t. Fred was so fun but he slept with all my friends! My baguette would never do that, especially because all my hot friends don’t eat bread.

The only problem with day-old baguettes is that after one day, they’re no longer a day old. Typical men.

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