Low Expectations

Today I was talking to R about boys and we both expressed our dismay at the lack of even mildly appealing men in the city.

When I was younger, naive, romantic, idealistic, and whatnot, I was really picky about guys, and wouldn't even go out on a date with a guy that I deemed less than suitable. And the second that I found even a little something I didn't like, he was outta there.

Then, for a long period of time, I would talk to and hand out my phone number to anyone with a pulse. Really. In a totally non-desperate way, of course. I was just playing the odds and figured the more people I actually gave my number to, the higher the odds were that one of them would actually call.

Now, I've settled into a middle ground where I'll usually go out on at least one date with a guy, but once he starts to show any signs of psychotic behavior, I cut him out of life.

But, what is totally bizarre, is I've found that my actual requirements for a guy have dramatically tanked.

Whereas I used to have a list that would rival eHarmony's of the qualities that a person would need to possess to be worthy of my affections, I have now settled on four main questions.

1) Are you single, as in not seeing or dating or married to someone?

Yes? Check!

2) Are you gainfully employed?

(Hey in this economic environment, that's a very fair question, and a guy with a good job is more than a catch.)

Yes? Check!

3) Do you live with your parents?

(You would think that this wouldn't be so much of a problem at my age, but shockingly, it is. For some strange reason, every other guy that my friends and I come across seems to live with his parents.)

No? Check!

4) Do you have any strange fetishes or problems operating your machinery, if you get my drift?

No? DING DING DING!!!

And we have a winner!

But honestly, you'd be surprised how few guys actually satisfy all of these conditions. There was a time when I cared about things like sense of humor and education and age...but those days are long gone. After all, desperate times call for desperately decreasing standards.

So from now on, R and I are going to do what we call "border control" for one another, and make sure all potential male applicants can meet the above criteria before any actual time or conversation is invested in them.

And, we are done giving out our phone numbers to guys. At all. If some guy bizarrely comes along who can pass border control and I want to see him again, I'll take his number and call him when I damn well feel like it.

I can't lie, though. There is a part of me that wonders when I became so willing to settle for so little. At the very least, I should request that someone be equal to me; therefore the employment and apartment part should just be a given.

We'll see how this new plan plays out this weekend. At the very least, amusement is sure to follow. Keep your eyes peeled for S & R Border Control coming soon to a dive bar near you!