From the Boredest Girl in Nashville, but it could have been written by me or plenty of women I know:

I’m not the sort of girl guys talk to. I’m a buddy girl. I’m witty, I’m fun, I’m cool, but not “hot”. Or whatever. It’s cool. I don’t really want to be “picked up”.

Guys say they like a sense of humor and all that, but it’s certainly not what initially attracts them. They’re visual creatures and short of wearing a clown suit (or ironic t-shirt, same difference), it’s hard to convey your sense of humor through how you look. It’s even harder for me since I don’t wear glasses, so I can’t get that “Tina Fey” look to let men know that I have a witty, dry sense of humor.

When I was still single and living in Memphis, there was this party held every week on the roof of the Peabody Hotel. I’m sure it had some marketing name, but we all called it the Rooftop Party. It was a meat market (meet market?). It was fun to go if for no other reason than to observe the mating ritual of the human.

But there were tales…urban legends…of women who met their husbands there. So we went. Usually in large groups (because a large group of women is far less intimidating to men, right? ha!). I had some moderate luck in my 20s, but when I returned to Memphis after my first stint living in Nashville, I found that all my old crew had been coupled off. So I had to find a new crew. And a new strategy.

Because I’m not “hot” either (as in, I don’t even own a sleeveless top, much less one that plunges to show cleavage), I don’t attract attention on my own. But I worked with a girl who could easily get a lot of attention. But not only was she dumb as a stump and could hardly carry a conversation, she was very picky about who she’d talk to. So I’d go with her, use her as bait and when, within five words the guys gave up trying to have a conversation with her, there I’d be. Hey, I met a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist using that method one time. But no boyfriends.

Turns out, all the guys I was interested in were sitting around at each other’s houses wondering why none of them had girlfriends. Eh, what can you do? Me? After more failed attempts at online dating than I’d like to count, I had one successful attempt. And he’s a keeper. So keep the faith, Bored Girl. But do you really want to date a guy you met in a bar anyway? Probably not.