I was talking to a guy-friend of mine recently, who has “girlfriend issues”. I think, overwhelmingly, his concern is that she’s not really his girlfriend…and likely not even a reasonable facsimile. But, as is to be expected, she’s tremendously good-looking.
That having been said, I still don’t understand the attraction. She requires a lot of care. She’s heavily painted. Really, the girl belongs in the basement of the Louvre…If it was an after-hours dance club and served vodka and Red Bull, that is.
From time to time, I ask him how it’s going with her…
“You seen her lately?”
“You gonna see her soon?”
“You think she’s seeing other people?”
“You’re seriously spending THAT MUCH on her for Christmas???”
“She’s high-maintenance, huh?”
We normal girls wonder why y’all love to be with such difficult broads (even if they are smokin’ hawt) … just like you guys wonder … well … kinda why we do everything.
There are soooooo many things a woman will do that will tell you she’s going to be a nightmare….
If a girl tells you PROUDLY that she doesn’t eat at McDonald’s, don’t believe it. The more pleasure a girl has in telling you she won’t eat junk, the more likely it is that she’s really fibbing and going thru the drive-thru for a McChicken (I take mine no lettuce, by the way) on the way home from your place. It’s a rare rare girl that’s hard-core nutritionally (hello, salt and sugar, I looooooove you) … so any girl who tells you she’s always good is (a) a liar, and (b) cranky because she's dying to go home, sit on the floor in front of her fridge and scoop icing out of the tub with Doritos (about 12 seconds in the micro will make it soft enough to not snap the chips)…
If you wake up together on a Saturday or Sunday morning and you roll over and suggest you go out for breakfast and she takes more than FIVE minutes to get ready, you should dump her. Any girl who doesn’t understand that the uniform for weekend breakfast out does NOT include makeup, but DOES include a ponytail and clothes comfy enough to nap in after, can’t function long-term. Yeah, yeah, you all wanna date porn-stars, but they’re no fun when you just wanna ram a huge pile of bacon in yer face.
And, if you ever find yourself fainting with hunger, keeping your crusty girlfriend’s spot in line at the wheatgrass juice bar, holding the Coach purse you bought her, while she madly texts you-have-no-clue-who … don’t say the rest of us normal girls didn’t … nag you.