I'm Glad I'm Not Single #3
I'm so glad I am in a loving relationship with my boyfriend Jack because I just don't have the wardrobe to be single, especially in the winter. Sure, I could go on a series of first dates I have one good date outfit. But, I'd be hard pressed to find something that's cute, yet casual, yet femine, yet warm while strolling the New York streets, yet layered enough that I can be comfortable in a heated inside venue for a third or fourth date. I know that by the third date my would be suitor would probably have seen me in the same pair of jeans at least twice. I do have more than one pair of jeans, but I only one flattering pair.
I don't know how poor people find love or mate. Maybe they don't waste money on comfortable clothing, and only spend money on terribly uncomfortable yet stunning clothing. Maybe poor people only live in warm climates, like the South. Everyone looks good in shorts and a tank-top. Well, not everybody. It seems America's poor suffer far more than first realized.
That's why I'm so glad I'm already in a relationship, it saves me from having to get a real job and earn an actual "living." And let's face it even if I was faced with eternal singledom I'd never get a real job. If ever I was desperate for sex or romantic companionship I'd probably just choose debt to dress the part of adorable. My boyfriend Jack already thinks I'm adorable no matter what I'm wearing--for example my ragged, baggy flannel pajamas. I have to say that it's mutual. Even when he looks a mess I find him just as attractive as when he's all smarted up for a blacktie event. He can come in from the cold, his nose slightly running and take off his skull cap leaving his hair unflatterlingly matted to his head-- all out of place. He then takes off his coat to reveal a half untucked shirt that's turned slightly sideways. The bottom of his pants are wet and filthy from the snow/slush/nyc grime winter mixture. He's a fashion failure, and yet in those moments I want nothing more than to run into his arms and bury my head in his chest. It's funny, huh?
God bless you single people-- you need it.
The meek shall inherit the Earth but what do the disheveled inherit?
I don't know how poor people find love or mate. Maybe they don't waste money on comfortable clothing, and only spend money on terribly uncomfortable yet stunning clothing. Maybe poor people only live in warm climates, like the South. Everyone looks good in shorts and a tank-top. Well, not everybody. It seems America's poor suffer far more than first realized.
That's why I'm so glad I'm already in a relationship, it saves me from having to get a real job and earn an actual "living." And let's face it even if I was faced with eternal singledom I'd never get a real job. If ever I was desperate for sex or romantic companionship I'd probably just choose debt to dress the part of adorable. My boyfriend Jack already thinks I'm adorable no matter what I'm wearing--for example my ragged, baggy flannel pajamas. I have to say that it's mutual. Even when he looks a mess I find him just as attractive as when he's all smarted up for a blacktie event. He can come in from the cold, his nose slightly running and take off his skull cap leaving his hair unflatterlingly matted to his head-- all out of place. He then takes off his coat to reveal a half untucked shirt that's turned slightly sideways. The bottom of his pants are wet and filthy from the snow/slush/nyc grime winter mixture. He's a fashion failure, and yet in those moments I want nothing more than to run into his arms and bury my head in his chest. It's funny, huh?
God bless you single people-- you need it.
The meek shall inherit the Earth but what do the disheveled inherit?
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