Tuesday, July 28, 2015

My Wife Has a Type, And It's Not Me

I came to a sad realization this week, as I finally had to admit that I am not my wife's type. What really hammered it home was my wife saying that "I did not see myself ending up with someone like you." That sounds bad, but that is the kind of brutal honesty that can only be had in a very stable relationship (or a relationship that is very close to ending, but I'm pretty sure we're the former).

The gentlemen she is interested in do not share commonalities with me. It's always the same type of guy that she likes, and it is literally the most boring combination imaginable. She likes tall, dark, and handsome. I definitely don't fit the first two traits. The third is at least debatable; I mean, there are many people who refer to me as Hott Joe to my face, but that may say more about them than it actually says about me. Oh, and the most important characteristic that she likes in other dudes, they must have absolutely no personality (and don't be a dick and say that I can at least fulfill that role for her).

This is never more true than when we watch The Bachelorette. She always favors the most generic looking dudes on the planet. Like, this season, it got down to the final three, and she liked the guy who nobody can remember. Does anybody even know that dude's name? I'll call him Billy. Seriously, if Billy just disappeared, would anyone have any questions? I'm not sure Billy didn't just join the show in like week six (By the way, my pick was Tanner, the only guy who actually stood up for the super drunk guy from the first episode, because, yeah, we've all gotten too drunk before. Also, he made jokes about how he couldn't believe he was still around, and I respect that sort of self-awareness). Can you name one thing Billy has done outside of being accused of being a virgin? No, because the only memorable thing about him was an interaction sparked by another person. He's as impactful as wallpaper, and that's the type of guy my wife digs.

Although the dudes she likes are good looking; they're not great looking. These fellas ain't Brad Pitt, and I think it bothers me way more that they are somewhat attainable. Like, if you're going to admit to your husband that you think another man is attractive, at least aim for the stars. Instead, she's aiming for a weekend getaway in Branson, Missouri.

Still, I put a ring on it; we've been married for almost two years, so she's basically stuck with me at this point. Oh, and to be fair, she's not my type either, but we'll get into that next time.

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