Suck My Guac

I’m not sure that this title will relate very well to this post, but once I thought of it, my mind was made up.

I graduated, with Kate, from a liberal arts college in SoCal. A week later I was living unemployed in Boulder, Colorado. That unemployment never ended* and so I moved back home with my mom to, you guessed it, SoCal.

Upon my return to our old stomping grounds I found myself asking, “Where the fuck did everyone go?”

If that wasn’t bad enough I knew that I was on the precipice of a dry spell. Going out in Los Angeles would be great if I were an agent driving a Maserati. Fuck if I were an agent driving a Maserati in this town I could have a mullet with the party in the back going down to my ass and still get laid. But instead I work for a tech company and drive a dirty, beat to shit, Jeep.

There’s something sleazy to picking up girls in bars. Mostly because girls tend to travel in packs, and like any good predator your best shot is to pick one off when they stray from the herd. Of course it’s hard to be male and a predator without eventually getting the “sexual” label slapped onto it.

I did the unthinkable – at least in my mind, and possibly in your’s too, reader – I joined an online dating service. I’ve learned a lot about myself and the single women in this town.

The experience is somewhere between Travelocity and Facebook.

*They say in Boulder the guy serving your coffee has a PhD. So my little BA’s chances were slim.