In a surprisingly good twist of fate I've been dating someone for the past two months who has yet to shock and horrify me. Fear not, his freak flag will fly sooner or later and make for a very interesting post, but until I can publicly mock him I will need to look a little harder to find inspiration.
Even if you're the "ugly friend," a bar dude's instincts are to lie, feed you shots, then make up a little more bullshit. During my journey home from one of our "slumber parties" (after telling the tourist blocking the exit doors to go on a diet so I wouldn't miss my stop) I started thinking about my childhood and how even though things are going well on the dating front (for now) I am not exactly living in a fairy tale. Then I passed a shoe store and saw the poor sales guy cramming the overly bunioned hammer toe of some beast into an innocent Manolo and I realized my dating life is a mix of every fairy tale at one point or another. Obviously I think I'm special (I am, dammit) but something tells me I am not the only one lucky enough (I think there's a better word than "luck") to live in a fable.
Beauty and the Beast
Sometimes dinner on The House (that's his nickname) is worth it. We've all done it so there's really no point in trying to hide it. Funds are low and you really need a meal not consisting of ramen or Hamburger Helper. What do to? Just find some beastly guy with either a) a credit card b) a decent job, or the favored option c) family money. He isn't the easiest on the eyes and he might have the personality of a discarded gum wrapper, but you suck it up for the sake of the coveted extra star given to whichever eatery he takes you to. I know some friends who marry their beast for a second bedroom. I wouldn't suggest this as an affair is sure to void the prenup, but who am I to tell anyone how to live their life?
First let me say that whoever decided the slipper was glass is definitely a sadist. Also, Prince Charming sounds more like a mommy's boy, but I guess that's a better option than staying with a few bitches who force you to do an overabundance of chores. I have a mother and two sisters so I've done my fair share of cleaning hair other than mine from the bathroom sink. Luckily for me my boyfriend is short so I need not tall shoes made of glass or otherwise. A few years ago though, I lived with John the 6'5" Psycho for two years because it was a better option than my mother's townhouse in Westchester. Moral here: try to get a good enough job to live alone in peace.
"Who, what, me?? Noooose." Anyone else find it odd that part of the male anatomy grows and grows when he lies? Not sure why the author even bothers bringing the innocent nose into the equation as we all know the part in question is a little further south. Even if you're the "ugly friend," when a bar dude has you in his sights, his instincts are to lie, feed you shots, then make up a little more bullshit. Sorry people, but for your sake, let's hope I'm not the one who let the cat out of the bag on that one. As the night gets later and the lies become more extreme, his "other nose" grows with anticipation of bedding you. Regardless of your reasoning (and it's usually "I'm drunk" or "It's been a while") we've all lived the Pinocchio scenario. Next time you grab your clothes and make a dash for the door, remind yourself to tell Geppetto to fuck off while trying not to trip over a remote control truck.
The Little Mermaid
Though I must admit to always having fully functioning legs (lazy but functioning), I have changed more than a few times to fit a boyfriend's ideal criteria. Luckily with J, I don't have to do that since I got wasted on our first date, flicked him in the face, and tried to convince him that The California Raisins were the original singers of "I Heard It Through the Grapevine." Yes, I always ask him how we made it to date two and I can only assume it was due to what happened after the physical assault and insane lack of music history knowledge. Regardless, show me one girl who hasn't donned team colors or been disowned by her father in the name of love (ahem lust). Just for the record, why did Ariel have to give up her fins? Now that women are feeling empowered in the workplace, there should be a new version where he just rents a scuba tank. Doesn't that seem like the easier option?