I am totally on the prowl for my February. It is a very strange feeling when dating is not a passive activity. When I actually have to be the aggressor. When I have to be the one to initiate the process because I have the specific goal of getting someone to go out with me.
Is this what it feels like to be a guy?
Every member of the opposite sex is a potential target. In every situation. All the time. I find myself sizing everyone up, from the guy who takes my keys at the auto mechanic, to the gentleman who held open the door for me at the post office (he had way too many bumper stickers on his car for me to follow him to his next destination and ask him out), to the guy who is the friend of a friend who I met and had to dissuade over the summer but who I am now in casual contact with again. None of them are safe.
I check for rings. I check for unzipped zippers or strange social practices. I start running them through my mental datability checklist. Every conversation is underscored by the Gollum-esque voice in my head saying, “Hmmm…maybe he could be our February. Should we ask him out? Would you have fun with him? Would he be weird? How should we do it? What would it mean? How would he respond? Do you think he likes sushi? Why can’t they make a muffin that tastes good AND is less than 500 calories?”
Pipe down!
Now I know why guys don’t ever seem to be listening. They are distracted by that voice in their head. And boobs.
Fair warning to the men in my path: You will get picked up. And you will like it.
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