Male Call: Breaker, Breaker…


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Click to read more about James Roberts.

By James Roberts

There’s a big difference between spying, eavesdropping and simply overhearing things. It goes like this: He or she spies, you eavesdrop, I overhear.

We like to call it being an “urban anthropologist” (a term we just made up).

Thus it was that the Male Call Advisory Board was conducting field research and witnessed two “deal breaker” scenarios.

Let’s start by remembering that in April’s Male Call, we discovered through exhaustive research that there are some 650,000 single males over 18 and the same number of single females in this county.

You’d think that with numbers like this, there’d be at least a few romantic candidates for everyone.

“Not so,” said one pleasant-looking lady we eavesdropped…er…overheard at a local tavern. She claimed, and we quote: “No one here is worthy of me.” The guy she was talking to thought she meant “no one at the bar” but she clarified, “No, no one in this city.” She went on to mention her intellect, her musical accomplishments, her love of hiking and art and perhaps a few other things that sounded like “blah blah, blah, blah, blah.”

Apparently no one on all of Long Island, New York was worthy either, so it’s not just a western thing.

Another night, another club. Your urban anthropology team watched haplessly as a certain unfortunate guy spent about an hour and a half, by our reckoning, engaged with a lovely, seemingly interested, age-appropriate lady.

While we’re not big fans of so-called deal breakers, we have to say this is a true case of three-strikes-you’re-out.

First, it transpired that the woman had either a very low sex drive or simply had given up on it. The gent, whom I talked to later, insists he didn’t ask; she volunteered the info.

Second, she is a vegan, which, it turns out, does not mean she comes from the planet Vega but does mean no milk, no eggs, no bacon, no hamburgers, no salmon, no camembert, no turkey, no blah, blah, blah.

“Ok,” he tells me. “I can live with that. We’ll just cook separately and perhaps the amorous part will come along naturally.”

The third and final shoe dropped at the end of the conversation.

Five cats.

All we could see at that point was a flurry of dropped shoes beating a path to the door.

Ladies: Everyone’s always telling us about their breakers – liars, married cheaters, alcoholics, drug addicts, smokers – but perhaps you could at least try not to burden your open-minded, drama-hating, comfortable-in-jeans-or-little-black-dress, midwest-values-loving, quiet-evenings-snuggling-by-the-fire-with-a-fine-wine self down with prima facie breakers of your own devising.

Give the guys a break. Limit yourself to two cats (max). Have a glass of milk. Allow yourself a slice of gluten-laden bread. Put your smart phone away at parties. And don’t spurn him for his astrological sign.

After all, once those 650,000 are gone, there’s no second truckload coming along.

 

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Comments

  1. charhartman says:

    I have only one cat. I eat gluten heavy bread (but not every day). I eat eggs and bacon and beef (but not every day). I only use my smart phone as an occasional crutch when I’m alone in a large crowd of strangers, never when I’m with friends. I may ask for ones “sign” but would never spurn one for it. It seems I may be the perfect woman. 🙂

  2. l’ll give you my gluten-free bread when you pry it from my cold, dead hands!

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