Tuesday, September 1, 2009

This is how a heart breaks

Honestly, I'm sick of the stereotype that guys are "the heartbreakers." Grab your remote and flip the channels and I guarantee that you see something portraying men as the using, manipulatvie gender. I guess that's partly because women actually buy that crap, whereas we men spend our money on Megan Fox and fighting robots (saw it for the second time, nowhere near as good).

You'd think the world would've had enough of this silly generalization, but I look around me and I see it isn't so. Maybe there's just something about Mormon men that makes us dupes, or Mormon women that makes them cruel, but either way the above picture is false.

Also, the title of this blog IS a reference to Rob Thomas, but I am in no way endorsing that song, or it's accompanying video. Three and a half minutes of Robby boy drooping his head in mock melancholia is not what I consider entertainment.

So, back to business. I got my heart broken this week, bringing my life-total to a staggering 2 (oh Jency, you sure did a number on my 15-year-old soul). I would go into details but it is:
a) too soon, and
b) all too probable that the person involved could read this blog.

Needless to say, I was an absolute mess for a couple of days but I'm feeling a lot better now. I was at work this morning, moping and scowling at the world around me, when all of a sudden I started singing along to Guster while making sandwitches for an influx of geriatrics (grrrrrrrr) and I felt like my old self again.

Now here I am at life's precipice with absolutely no bridges to cross and frankly, I am romantically exhausted. I don't have the energy that I once did to approach a complete stranger, make useless awkward small-talk and nervously segway the conversation into a post-dated encounter or exchange of numerals. Just last night I was at a gathering of sorts and while my peers hurried to and fro in their mating rituals I sat on the grass enjoying my hashbrown wedge in tranquility. A young man (rather magoo truth be told) approached an acquaintence sitting next to me and made a casual entrance into a conversation.

"NICE CAMERA!" not so much shouted as the capitals would infer, but forcefully thrown like a regurgitation.

"Um...thank you." she replied, not in a nice way but in that way that girls will make a simple expression sound soooooo demeaning.

".........(too much silence) I BET YOU TAKE GOOD PICTURES WITH THAT" regurgitated, but with admirable poise.

"Um...yeah," in a crushing blow that only a mormon girl can extract from two syllabils.

By this point there were about 6 of us watching this poor soul. I actually felt sympthay pains for this young man and wanted to hide my own head in the dirt. After an excrutiatingly silent pause he turned and scuttled off to try his luck somewhere else.

"Good for him," I said. The group thought I was kidding, I wasn't. It probably took him 10 minutes to work up the stones to crash that hard, but at least he crashed. All I had to show for the same 10 minutes was an empty plate.

In the words of Murtauch, I'm getting to old for this stuff. As such I have decided to start taking applications for my future romantic pursuit. Anyone interested can fill out the attached form and return it to me via email or in person (preferred, to eliminate some of the guess work).

Benjamin's Love Inc.

Position Applying For_________________(i.e. friend with massive amounts of sexual tension, booty call, potential paramoure, or spouse--fortune favors the bold--)

Education_________________(we have to make sure they've made it to upper-classmen status, with the exception of those applying for the position of eye candy)

Work Experience________________(no innuendo on this one, it's important to have someone with a strong ethic)

Character References______________(other female friends are probably better than ex-boyfriends, plus I might get more applicants that way)

Essay Portion_________In a paragraph of at least 250 but not exceeding 750 words, tell me a little about: yourself, your hobbies; interests; preferred activities; brand of perfume or other scented product; family (no military fathers thank you); music and film tastes; cello-playing ability; religious affiliation (I don't discriminate...promise), any linguistic accents; and explain why I should place you above the other qualified applicants (Zwa!). A photo should be for archival purposes.

After turning in your application you will be contacted to set up an interview appointment. Anyone applying should be a legal resident of the United States, in good mental and physical health, and able to be supported by a small canoe without capsizing.

There is no deadline for aplications, but positions are filling fast (Zwa!).


  1. The stereotype is that guys are heartbreakers?? I'm not sure I've heard that before. I thought the stereotype was that girls are heartbreakers and guys are jerks.

  2. I'll turn on my own sex here. I've always thought girls were more rude and mean than boys. When it comes to dating, girls are so incredibly picky and irrational. It's annoying. Sorry about the recent heart break.

  3. Man, I love the application and I really love the Murtaugh reference. Classic. Next time you have one of these crappy days (weeks) call me and we can go drown our sorrows in a tall, cold, Jamba.

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  5. Awkwardly enough, I think I remember watching this sad sight...but I would like to point out that boys can be just as bad as girls. The cruelty of the dating world cannot be broken into boys vs. girls. If we tried that, it would turn out as a draw. A miserable, wretched draw.