Okay, single ladies, if you were wishing he’d put a ring on it, but you need a he first, I’ve got news for you.
As a former single lady of which Beyonce had to be singing about, I feel your pain. Believe me, I listened to my fair share of “I will Survive” and I was the poster-child for Bridget Jones’ Diary. Damn those smug marrieds (of which, yes, I realize I have become)!
But I promised I would do my best to help every singleton I came across to the very best of my ability because I’ve been there and it sucks!
No, I’m not going to tell you to go to church or the bar, the only 2 places people ever suggested when I was dateless and getting fatter and older by the moment. Well, I take that back. They were always recommending those ridiculous e-dating sites, too, because there was nothing I needed more than some guys judging me on my appearance as to whether or not to date me. Boy, THAT had been working so well so far… Oh, and my statistics, truthful or not, wouldn’t have been that of a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader either, although I’d like to think my IQ was higher, but those cheerleaders’ll shock ya. Jerry Jones only likes the best.
Anyway, what you’ve been waiting for… I have solved your empty calendar crisis!
I am paying it forward by telling you the secret to finding a date. Yes, ladies, the answer was obvious and yet, I missed it during my single years. Simply grab 2 girl friends (preferably ones that don’t look like lesbians, not that I’m opposed to them, just saying they might scare off the men) and head to Hooters for happy hour. Girls, it’s infested with men and not a girl in sight! A couple of drinks, some suggestive fried pickles, and an over the shoulder flirtation and you will be soaking in testosterone! It’s a sure thing, if there ever were such a thing in this impossible-to-meet-someone-without-seeming-like-freak-or-a-whore society! Trust me, girls, you don’t have to wear slutty orange 70’s shorts with pantyhose to get results! I guarantee success, but no need to invite me to the wedding.