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When I was in school, a Real
Stunner imparted that I was
“Cooler than I looked,” which
I took to mean that I was built
like a mathlete but mentally ill.
As the kids say, she really
“Clocked my tea,” but there’s
something about being the
worst of both worlds that carries a
certain allure, let’s call it
Dogshit Magnetism. Really, there’s
mystery in it, and everyone, especially
Real Stunners, love a good mystery and
me, I love Nancy Drew and me, I love the
Hardy Boys. Shit, I love anyone who
knows how to ask a question.
But there’s not enough about me to
fill a novel. The mystery is simple:
I do not give a fuck. Well, that’s not
true. I give a fuck when I don’t not
give a fuck, which is a tautologically
necessary double-negative. Sometimes,
I make a decision after thinking about
it for a century (time moves slower up here)
and I do tell that mousy brunette built
like a fertility goddess with just a
dash of boyish charm that I think their
coveralls are mega sweet and
give them my number (pro-tip: never
ask for the number, you gotta show
interest but eliminate pressure). If they
don’t call, no biggie, because I don’t give
a fuck and my copy of Pet Sounds will
always be there for me when I spiral about
being fundamentally unlovable. No biggie.
Any Real Stunner will tell you that I’m
trapped in the Limbo of Coolness. I am
not the boy-adjacent you can bring to
meet your parents, but I don’t have a
cool motorbike and I still haven’t gotten
that “Bastards of Young” lyric tattoo I
keep talking myself out of. I don’t think
I have the frame to pull off tattoos.
I’ve gone to anime conventions and I
always felt ashamed when I saw some
wrinkled, half-shaven meat balloon
slobber over a bulimic 16-year-old
cosplayed up like the mage from
Konosuba. I don’t like
nightclubs or strip clubs or golf clubs,
but I love a good dive bar or karaoke bar,
as long as it isn’t too classy. Everyone
says the bar for dating is so
low these days and I think that’s true,
but whether that’s in your favor depends
on how you view the bar. Lotta
motherfuckers will tell you to take the
small step over, but that’s too easy and
I’m too stubborn. When I meet a Real
Stunner and they tell me I’m
“Cooler than I look?” Well I gotta show ’em
something cool. Watch me bend over
backwards, babygirl. I got a lotta
practice at this. Watch me do the
Limbo of Coolness.
