The Dating Profile I Really Want to Write
Below is the dating profile I want to write.
My dog Fish will not like you. And he sleeps on the bed. This is a non-negotiable. I don’t care if this means you can never sleep over. I don’t actually want you to sleep over, because I don’t want you to comment on my snoring. Because guess what? You snore too. All of you. All men snore. It’s time someone came clean about this. You all do it.
I will, however, happily go away for a weekend. Let’s rent a cute hotel room in the desert, float in hot water, both snore, and leave each other on Sunday afternoon. Then let’s not talk until Thursday.
If we go to the movies, I am getting a large popcorn with a ton of butter, and mixing in a bag of peanut M&M’s. You may share this with me, but you may not comment on it. Unless it’s to tell me that this dish would win on Top Chef, and I kinda think you’re right: it’s the perfect mix of salty-sweet-crunchy-fatty.
I’m not going to go to the game with you and I am not going to watch the game with you. I’m sorry. I know football/baseball/basketball/soccer/hockey is elegant and you believe I’d be really into if I just understood the game but I promise you I won’t like it. But by all means, you go to the game. Please. I want to be alone approximately five days a week anyway, so I can do my important work of staring at the wall.
I am a great cook. I am likely a better cook than you. This is because I read recipes to relax. We should just accept that I am superior in this way and maybe a lot of other ways, and let me make dinner. I am, however, terrified of tech. If my computer stops working, I freeze and prepare for the worst. I will need you to talk me through this, so I don’t throw the computer out the window to watch it bounce. I’ve been dying to do that for years.
I hate overhead lighting. If you walk into my house and turn on an overhead light, it’s over. Please just turn around and leave. Overhead lights are for interrogations.
Once I had a bad day so I ate a tub of Trader Joe’s peanut butter cups, leaving the wrappers strewn around the house. My boyfriend at the time came over, saw the wrappers in the living room, in the hallway, in my bedroom, and just quietly picked them all…