Rally-cry reply: “I Have My Own Life: What Makes Me Undateable Is Why You Should Date Me”
A friend of mine sent me this fantastic article written by Candice Jalili on Elite Daily titled: I Have My Own Life: What Makes Me Undateable Is Why You Should Date Me. Interestingly enough, the two weeks prior I had basically the same conversation with both her and another friend 1700 miles away. I found the article not only awesome but it really struck a cord and the timing was perfect.
So — as a rally-cry to all the other people out there that suffer from the same plight, I have created my own list of What Makes Me Undateable is Why You Should Date Me and encourage others to do so as well. I also feel as a gay male, while Candice and I share many qualities, I have a few unique to the gay community at large.
An aside: Candice, if you were a dude, I’d totes mac on you :)
I know how to have a good fucking time.
In and outside of a bar. But mostly a bar. Do I drink too much? Probably. Am I a fucking mess? Not at all. I never get angry, start balling my eyes out, or become that really weird friend that gets the one-eye open look and you can’t tell if they’re going to puke or not but they still insist on going.
I love the city life that Chicago has to offer as well as the rural life. I frequently go camping. I love being near the water (oceans, lakes, seas, small ponds with weird things floating on top, etc.)
That doesn’t mean I don’t like down time — chill at home binge watching TV or playing video games. But if it’s sunny out and a great temperature… lets go sit on the beach and drink cheap beer all day. Or lets go find a nice patio bar to sit and shovel not so healthy food in to our mouths in between sips of our martinis. It doesn’t have to be a bar, but alcohol is more than likely a must (only because it’s so goddamned tasty).
I have a fucking job.
And no, it’s not at Starbucks, Pete’s or some other retail/food establishment. I’m 34 years old — I’m not trying to get my acting career going or waiting for that big break.
I have a career. I’ve been doing it since I was 19 and I’m fucking awesome at it. And I get paid well for what I do, too. I don’t need you to pay my bills, rent or my way. Granted I may be horrible at saving money, but that’s OK (we all can’t be perfect). Also, that doesn’t mean I want to be paying your way either.
Now, that’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with having such as job as Starbucks. But if you’re pushing 30 or over — you need to really reevaluate your life.
I have great fucking friends.
My friends range from trailer-trash to high-class bitches. They’re all wonderful and bring something unique to the table. One thing that absolutely annoys me with the gay community is how segregated we are internally and shun others because they don’t act, look, or do the same things we do.
But even better, they can be you friends too. Or they can just be mine. Either is fine by me. But I won’t be relying on you or your friends to make my social life. I already have one. I want someone to be apart of my life — not my entire life.
I’d love to meet your friends too! And your family, or whomever. I know how to dress up nice for the occasion, but more likely than not, you’ll find me in a T-shirt and jeans/shorts.
I’m fucking weird.
There’s really no other way to put it and I’m proud of it. I frequently post a series of “Watch Joshua get drunk” photos just so people laugh. I have a rather dark sense of humor and get the side-eye from strangers for my comments all of the time.
I also have a secret desire to have an acting career where my only role is to be a corpse in crime dramas. I think it’d be fucking hilarious to have people be like “hey, isn’t that the dead guy from the other show?”
And most people love it because the crap that comes out of my mouth is usually fucking hilarious too. More importantly, I generally do not make fun of specific individuals (unless they really deserve it for being a douche) and more likely than not, I’ll be making fun of myself.
The great thing about weird people is that we’re never fucking boring. I’m usually up for anything and the more strange it is, the more it will probably appeal to me — at least from an observational standpoint.
I give zero fucks.
I could care less what other people think about me. If you’re willing to make judgements about me without knowing me, that’s your problem, not mine.
I frequently wear a fanny pack, to which I constantly get snide remarks to the fact I’m wearing one. You know what? Fuck you — It’s mine, I’m happy with it and I don’t have a bunch of awkward things stabbing me in the leg.
I’ve been to fancy restaurants wearing jeans and a shirt that says Cock Gobbler on it. Zero fucks. Don’t like the way I’m dressed? Don’t fucking look at me. I’m going to shovel this $75 filet in to my mouth and still be happy doing it regardless.
That does not mean I don’t know how to act/dress appropriately when the situation calls for it. I’m not going to show up a work function dressed like a hobo. There’s a time and a place for everything.
What it does mean is that I’m comfortable in my own skin and with who I am as a person. There’s no pretentiousness or airs with me. I am who I am, take it or leave it. While I have plenty of room for improvement… I’m a pretty swell guy as is.
I’m fucking honest and pragmatic.
I don’t have delusions of grandeur. I have no need to sugar coat things or smooth them over with white lies. I am also an extremely pragmatic person and don’t rush to a bunch of weird emotional conclusions.
This doesn’t mean that I’m an emotionless, cold, bag of dick, either. It means that when you go out with your ex, I’m not going to be texting you every 5 minutes wondering what you’re doing. If I don’t hear from you right away, I’m not going to assume the worst — I’m going to assume you’re busy and will get back to me when you can.
The gay community has an epidemic of people searching for this Disney-esque fantasy where a night in shining armor swoops in and they fall in love happily ever after. That’s absolutely absurd. I don’t expect to fall in love over night. And I wouldn’t want to. To quote Liz Phair “I want all that stupid old shit; like letters and sodas.”