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When not amusing you, my loverlies, with neurotic advice and semi-witty banter, I am drowning in a sea of endless academic hodge podge. Sometimes, when not trying to be an overachieving adult, I have the privilege of working at a very small, very charming, pub. On good days, slinging beer is a welcome escape from the bump n grind of my human activist day to day life. What is not to love after all? Good food, a big screen T.V. turned to any number of sporting events at which I can scream and yell to my hearts content without worry of offense or comment… Wonderful staff, great customers… and a fantastic opportunity to utilize my psychoanalytical skills on numerous unsuspecting patrons as I eavesdrop on their conversations and dazzle them with my tits wits in hopes of scoring a generous tip!

A couple of weeks ago, I was closing the pub on a fairly quiet weekday evening, when in strolled two young women who I am best to describe, as Bar Stars. You know the type, too much makeup, hair perfectly coiffed, perfume distracting from the other side of the room… tight jeans, high heels and ruby red lips. I could only presume they were on their way to a party, or from out of town… because in my town… a little John Deere gear goes a long way… all of these extras are unnecessary… if you are simply out on the prowl… which these two ladies clearly were.  But I can forgive them this transgression because let’s face it… we were all 25 once…

Ordering gin and juice (I kid you not, even I can’t make this shit up), they sat holding court at the end of the bar, just far enough away that they could make it appear as though they wanted privacy, but close enough to the rest of us, that any smart, single gal (like yours truly of course), would know that they were wanting to be noticed. Intrigued, I made a point of “cleaning” within earshot so as to casually analyze the intense heart-to-heart they appeared to be having. They didn’t disappoint, and my amusement only grew when the conversation moved from “Pretty Little Liars“, to “Total Divas” (I had to look it up! I didn’t even know this was a thing!) and finally rounded third base and headed home to shamerville when they started to discuss relationships and dating…

Quoted directly:

“The first rule for me”, said Bar Star #1, flouncing her perfectly coiffed, uber bleached blonde hair over her shoulder and running her teeth over her perfect, non-beer stained teeth… “is never, ever, date a man with change in his pockets…”

Say what?!

“I agree completely”, nodded Bar Star #2, giggling and smiling with the same Stepford perfection. “They are the worst!!”

I was shocked. Gob smacked… and quite frankly appalled. Are you kidding me? Here are two young women, on the prowl, in a small town, dressed to the nines, not a collective brain cell between the two of them and their “dating agenda” includes turning down a dude who has #pocketchange??!!

Two more drinks and an order of fries later, the two ladies exited the building… presumably to fuck men who only paid for dinner with $100 bills or their platinum American express card…

That was two weeks ago, and the who scenario still bothers me. I keep thinking that I Daniel-Del-Orfano-Welcome-Homeshould have interjected with some maternal, worldly advice… to lend some much needed KNOWLEDGE to these two poor lasses. If there is anything to say about having been single for seven years, is that it does in fact give one significant experience from which to offer some hard ass romantic advice. As a mature #puma… Sidebar: I age, but it is imperceptible to the naked eye….  who has definitely – if not exclusively dated men with “change in their pockets”, I feel the unquenchable NEED to pass along the following advice…

DO NOT miss out on a man or dismiss one because of a trivial… medial… pretentious thing such as his job… career or prospects… or any other gauging system in which you evaluate his monetary value. If you are over the age of 25 and are still looking to find someone to fill your social and financial status… you are going to spend a very, very long time being lonely and miserable.

Sure… he may have #pocketchange, but he might also have an insatiable sex drive… or might be sweet and fantastic in bed… Or he might use that #pocketchange to drive five hours because he knows you are sad and wants to make you smile. He might use that #pocketchange to buy you flowers when he can’t afford anything else… or he might sit on your couch and watch really bad John Hughes movies with you, because neither of you have anything more then #pocketchange and that is just fine because you enjoy each other’s company and those quiet moments that don’t involve fancy restaurants or black tie affairs are way better because you are together…. But he might also have just be good in bed… Sidebar:  My artwork choice for this weeks blog shows the magic of #pocketchange… the moments that don’t cost a dime and the ones that we all clamour for… 

5eb63025541966f16ac938c9eebd2f3aThere are things in this life my loverlies, that are far greater then money. If I have learned one thing of late, it is that there will always be one amazing quality in a human that makes up for all of their “perceived” flaws. Humans after all, are complex, surprising, and capable creatures, and the evidence of these things is usually at least a layer deep and is never going to be perceptible to you if upon meeting someone you judge their individual spirit with social prejudices such as #pocketchange.

In terms of mental health, weighing oneself down with invisible standards by which to evaluate potential love interests is not only cliché but extremely detrimental. Romantic partners are not corporate hotel chains. Rigid conformity to arbitrary social and cultural ideas is not an indication of anything at all except that you enjoy jumping on the bandwagon called the “mini van majority”, and your personality is shallow and taupe in colour.

I am not saying ladies (and gents), that we don’t have the right to be picky. Of course we Our_Paris_20X36do. He (she) needs to have impeccable hygiene… they need to be kind… they need to want to contribute to the planet is some fundamental way… and there will certainly be other personal #dealbreakers  based on individual preference and the baggage we carry around from past experience.  Most importantly… you must leave… at all costs… whether social or financial, at the first sign of any violence or abusive behaviour (emotional, spiritual or financial), no matter how difficult leaving might be. However, if we are talking about the dating game. About finding a romantic partner… the only criteria we should really be assessing is whether there is a physical attraction (does he get your kitty kat purring), and how promptly he returns text messages… Sidebar: there is… in my neurotic and brilliant mind, a fine line between too promptly and too slowly… and if he has texting mastered in this regard, he should definitely NOT go underrated.

This is why I will continue to find the entire concept of Internet dating flawed. The idea that any man could swipe left and dismiss me because I am only 5’2, like to wear hats (a lot) and have “saving the planet, puppies, Land Rovers, blogging and karaoke”under hobbies and interest… is enough to make me suspicious of the whole game. And dating is a game. As if the corporatization of our base desires wasn’t off putting enough… all by itself… it has come to this. The prejudgement of someone with #pocketchange as an inherent reason not to date.

Romance, love, “the one” – it is, without a doubt… all about chemistry and timing my friends. And hey… if it doesn’t work out… at least he has some change in his pockets for the bus fare home…

Yours in dollars and sense,

Franki Figgs

~ All artwork owned and distributed by Daniel del Orfano

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