This is the first week that began to feel like spring. I’m seeing all the obvious signs: flowers popping out of the ground, skirts being work without cableknit tights, and naturally…groups of twentysomethings anxiously anticipating “dating season.”
My best friend swears I’m a squirrel. Every November, I get disgusted with men. I’m surely not going out into the cold for any man who I mildy suspect is a jackass. I would rather be inside with my flannel, hot toddy, and CSI. Come spring, my outlook changes a bit. It’s impossible to be a bitch in a floral sundress. The weather, the ice coffee, the men without shirts, all convince me that I should give this thing called dating another go round.
That’s why I was tickled pink when I overheard the following conversation of 3 late twentysomethings in a BK coffee shop discussing how to catch a man for spring:
Girl 1: Oh God, it’s spring.
Girl 2: I can’t go through another sexless spring. Why are we always single?
Girl 3: I know! We are so cute! I would date you!
Girl 1: That’s not going to help. This year we need a sure thing. A foolproof strategy to get us laid.
[The girls pause bewilderingly.]
Girl 3: …You mean besides showing skin and putting out?