So my mouth was full. Shocker. And I couldn’t stop talking. Who me? You don’t say? With an obscene amount of Italian bread blocking my airways. If I’m not careful, I am going to choke on this fluffy chunk of yeast. I couldn’t help it. My pupils were dilated with joy! I was super excited. With more joy! But my sister said, if I kept it up, she was going to pummel me with the bruschetta we ordered when it arrived at our table. I wasn’t afraid of any tomato appetizer. I was hopped up on life! And chianti.
At the shoving of a dear friend, she messages and says there’s a guy she wants me to meet, whom I’d be perfect for… Oh God, not again. Please not another jerk. Please not another jerk. How do I get out of this?! I can’t. And away we go. There’s a catch. Really? Of course there is. It’s through a televised reality show… Crap. Those idiots never find true love. It’s reality tv. It’s on air existence is for monetary gain at unsuspecting applicants who go for the shrug of it. Alas, amidst all my refusal… And since I’m out of ideas of my own AND failing miserably at dating -who knew so many men were married just looking to hookup secretly behind their wives backs?! Don’t be naive. His marriage is NOT purely a business arrangemenT, with a short life expectancy. He’s lying. Ugh, I threw up a little! Hashtag douche bag. Or, is it just that so many people are out in the field-without a helmet- and really aren’t ready to date at all and essentially, just wasting other love’s nuggetry of time. Trust me. I’m waist deep in this menagerie. This is why I submerge myself in work. Yup. Bury my nose in it. Ha! Would love to bury my nose in something else! Wocka! Wocka!
It’s become a barrage of dickheads hopscotching on a sidewalk of who can play game -with which- the rules constantly change. Pass the salt. There are snails abound. And I don’t want to play. Although hopscotch does sound fun.
So… I say, sure. With a half-hopeful enthusiasm. And go for it. I’ve seen the show, I can tell a lot of these hoes are out here just for “exposure.” And even some of the guys, sickening enough, want their television time as well. Hit an audition jerk. Take an acting class. Jerk. Call an agent. Jerk. That’s what the rest of us are doing! Get with the program! Some people actually want to find love. Wait a minute… Is that? Could it be… It must be… Yes! It’s Prince Charming! And if it can be found on the reality show white horse, based on embarking in the fairy tale forest of embarrassing neurotic behavior… Then who’s to judge the kingdom of singles out there just aching for some human interaction?!
Well then, by golly, get out of our way! Yeehaw! I’ve got a prince waiting with my glass slipper to lasso in before my carriage turns into a pumpkin!
