Dating Don’ts: We’re All Just Walking Dealbreakers

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The other day, I made a list of every guy I’ve ever dated seriously, dated a couple times, dated until I got the “Oh no, there’s been an emergency and I must leave immediately!” phone call, or made out with and never actually dated at all.

To put it simply, the list was rather lengthy. Like, extremely lengthy. In doing this, I realized that every single one of these guys had some kind of dealbreaker. Obviously, because I’m still single. There was the guy who wanted to get married after the first date. There was the guy who gave me mono and literally ran away from me when I tried to talk to him about it, which was pretty rude considering I had mono and couldn’t really run after him. The list goes on. I could write about these dealbreakers forever, and I probably will because a lot of them are hilarious. But there’s a problem.

It occurred to me that while I’ve often been the one to do the breaking up/ignoring until they get the hint and go away, it hasn’t always been my call. Could it be that — gasp! — I’m not perfect either? As much crap as I give the guys I’ve dated, I’m just as guilty of being a weirdo as they are. What if, on some website in some alternate universe where guys write publicly about their feelings, one of the guys on my really long list wrote about the dealbreakers he discovered when it came to dating me? Here are some ideas for him, so he doesn’t have to work too hard to finish his blog post:

1. I hate condiments. I don’t like salad dressing, ketchup, mustard, relish, soy sauce, sour cream, or really anything that would make something no longer plain. I realize this makes me a freak. I live in Chicago and I can’t order a hot dog anywhere without getting a dirty look. It’s actually very sad.

2. I talk to myself. But only when I’m nervous, scared, mad, hungry or awake. No, guy I’m on a date with, I am not cheating on you with some dude I hid in my bathroom. I’m just having a serious talk with myself about how I need to stop talking to myself.

3. I also sometimes talk to inanimate objects. What can I say? I’m an only child. Something like this was bound to happen. Right, computer?

4. I am ridiculously early for everything. I don’t know why. I don’t particularly enjoy it. If our dinner is at 7 p.m., you can find me at the Walgreens located conveniently next to our restaurant (strategically selected by me for this exact purpose) wandering around killing time from about 6 p.m. on. This is why I always show up smelling like Walgreens perfume and why I am a fountain of knowledge regarding their balance rewards program. Seriously, ask me anything. Now that I think about it, I should really try to go on dates next to a Sephora or something. Nah, that might be too expensive.

5. I’m too competitive at Scrabble. I can’t help it. I’m a trash talker, and I usually can’t put my money where my mouth is unless I get exceptionally amazing letters or the guy is exceptionally stupid.

6. I read more children’s books than grown-up ones. Granted, I’m a children’s librarian so it’s kind of part of the job. But still. I will never be able to have an intellectual discussion with you about the symbolism in War and Peace or whatever you grown-ups are reading these days. But if you want to discuss the fanciest dress Fancy Nancy ever wore, I am so down.

7. I hum out of my nose. Sinus problems for the win, guys. Enjoy evidence of my claim to fame here.

So when you think about it, it turns out that I’m actually a little nuts. I don’t know if I would want to date me even though I am me and (usually) find myself to be totally delightful when I’m talking to myself.

The thing is, we’re all just walking dealbreakers in one way or another (or in lots of ways). The trick must be to find someone who doesn’t mind your dealbreakers (and maybe even finds them endearing) at the same time as you are not minding his. Maybe you can even like each other’s dealbreakers. Maybe one person’s dealbreaker is another’s dealmaker. Oh, snap.

I really hope I find someone like this at some point. Until then, I will be at Walgreens killing time, making strange noises with my nose while eating a plain hot dog. Call me?

[Photos from Shutterstock]

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