Cotton Undies

I only date long-term, as in preferably at least one academic year. Over fancy cocktails, a friend asked me why this is. Like I’m young and not getting younger so I might as well not waste the pretty, right? To my friend, I offered this explanation:

1. Dating is hard.
Using my collegiate career in marketing and studies by Reinartz and Kumar, I have learned that it is less strenuous to retain a significant other than it is to prospect for new ones. When my immediate networks were getting a little threadbare in the attractive mate section, I played with okcupid for a tiddle and found that to be a momentous disaster, fraught with Jeff Goldblum lookalikes and not-really-lesbian lesbians. And then when you find someone who you’re initially attracted to, you have the awkward task of figuring out what’s wrong with them.

2. Dating is expensive.

Date Night, 6 mo.
Bottle of wine…. $11
Indian Takeout… $30
HGTV marathon… FREE
Sweatpants… FREE
TOTAL: $41

Date Night, first week
Glass of wine x 4…$32
Dinner out…$65
New Date Outfit…$60
TOTAL: $168

3. Long-term means low maintenance.
I remember the first time my magnificent other told me I had a visible booger, and then got it for me. There’s a lot less self-consciousness as time goes on. You learn to pee with the door open. Drama is significantly reduced and less brain space can be devoted fretting on where he is at any given second.

4. It keeps bad guys at bay.
Having a steady beau means never having to make excuses for not spending time with other guys you have no desire to see. For instance, I have a gentleman in my life that has requested to be first on the list when I’m single. If I’m not ever single, then I won’t have to be straightforward and say “actually, I’m not interested in you outside of bubble tea and literary discussions.” In the meantime, we can have a lovely time discussing Salinger, during the daytime, in public.

5. I have a surplus of cotton undies.
Personally, I think plain white cotton undies are pretty sexy in an understated way, but I understand that many men would disagree. I would estimate that 90% of my underwear collection is cotton-based, meaning my limited arsenal of pretty, lacy, frilly, impractical underwear largely inhibits frequent flings. Because the opposite is true of my little sister’s panty assemblage, I can deduce that more than one young lad has seen her britches in the last couple of months.

6. It feels fuzzy.
Best friend you can make out with? Awesome.

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