Is it just me, or is “really nice guy” a euphemism for “boring and not that smart”? If the only adjective you can find for a guy is “really nice,” then please don’t set me up with him. I like nice guys. I do. I just don’t like boring, dense, nice guys.
I step off the flight from Cleveland and realize that while my phone has been turned off so that it wouldn’t interfere with flight equipment and/or the space-time continuum, I got a voice message! This so rarely happens that – sadly enough – it really is exciting.
Until I hear the voice. The hick, Utah-accent voice.
“Hi, my name is MG, and you were referred to me through the matchmaking service. I’m sorry that I missed you, but I’ll be available tonight if you’d like to call me back. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll call you tomorrow. But I hope that whatever you’re doing tonight you’re enjoying yourself and having a wonderful day. And I hope that you have a wonderful day tomorrow. I’m looking forward to talking to you and meeting you and I hope you have a wonderful evening, and I’ll talk to you later. Good-bye.”
Oh, no. He has a mustache.
Open mind, Beatrice. Keep an open mind. You promised.
I know I promised, but he has a mustache!!
You don’t know for sure that he has a mustache.
Of COURSE he has a mustache! Did you hear his voice? Did you hear that message? This guy’s a total dork, and only dorks are dorky enough to think that they actually look good in a mustache.
Tom Selleck has a mustache, and he is not a dork and he’s totally hot.
Umm…yeah…because Tom Selleck is that extremely rare, one-in-a-trillion creature who can grow a mustache and not repulse women. Tom Selleck is the guy who is going to get struck by lightning and not only survive, but walk away somehow looking better than he did before and feeling fabulous and suddenly no longer needing glasses or hearing aids or crutches, because he now has super powers, which means he wisely goes out and buys a cape so that he’ll be ready to save the world and, guess what, the very next day the world needs saving. So of COURSE Tom Selleck can rock a mustache!
None of that makes any sense. Call Mustache Guy back.
Open mind. Call him back.
I don’t like Mustache Guy.
You don’t know Mustache Guy. Call him back.
I don’t wanna waste my time.
You’d rather waste your money? Mustache Guy represents your trip to Greece or France or something and you’re going to let him get away with ruining your trip by not at least making him buy you dinner?
Shut up, bitch. Give me my phone.