My Life As The Leading Lady In A 2004 RomCom
I couldn’t help but wonder: can brunettes find love?
I wake up in bed at a guy’s place, after a one-night stand. Yikes! I immediately wrap the top sheet around my body to create a sweetheart-necklined toga. Heaven forbid a man I had sex with in the last eight hours rest his eyes upon my naked tits.
I’ve always been insecure about my looks (I’m a brunette). I’m embarrassed to share this, but I also wear glasses. I want to find love, someone who will accept me despite the rich chestnut tones of my locks and the fact that I have sub 20/20 vision. Is it even possible for someone like me (a brunette) to find love? I don’t know.
I freshen up in the bathroom, then snoop through every item in this man’s medicine cabinet. I met him yesterday. Do you think it’s too soon to “forget” some of my skincare products at his place so he thinks of me? There’s a tube of Clinique face cream on the shelf, does that mean there’s — gasp — another woman?
I decide instead to leave my iPod on the counter, guaranteeing he’ll call me to return it, and maybe notice my extremely cool curation of indie artists like Dave Matthews Band on the way. Relationships need deceit and trickery to work.
