I know I haven’t been blogging lately – and I’m sorry. But I just thought of this story and I cannot believe I never wrote about it.

This was, as usual, an OKCupid date. It was one of those that I was not confident would be fruitful, but I was bored, so I thought I’d go through with it. When we met, he was pretty much as I expected – balding, unattractive, extremely socially awkward. But I figured I’d just be difficult and have some stimulating conversation over free drinks.

I turned on all the charm. He was totally in love with me. There are some men who just adore strong, difficult women who challenge them and even make them feel stupid. I attract a lot of these. I could never actually date them, because it wouldn’t even be fun – I’d walk all over them and they would worship me for it.

He told me he worked for the federal government, in something like urban planning. I remember literally nothing else he said to me, because he was extraordinarily boring.

Then he mentioned that he was an anarchist.

Oh sweet Jesus. If I’m in difficult mode, you cannot give me a better gift than telling me you are an anarchist. Preferably, you’re part of the Occupy movement and hate capitalism and have never read Marx or Emma Goldman or really anything other than dumbass leftist propaganda.

I started to ask him what political system he thought would work better than what we had now.

“I don’t know,” he said.

I asked him to explain what parts of the system were so bad, and what he thought we should do about it.

“I don’t know,” he answered again.

Basically, he just wanted to say Fuck the Man and be done with it. No thoughts or anything. Fuck thinking. Just Fuck the Man. Because, seriously, the Man is keeping us all down, right?

And then I realized something.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Don’t you work for the federal government?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Hold up. You do not get to hate the Man if the Man pays your bills.”

He was silent.

“I never thought of that,” he said.

DUDE. DUDE. DUUUUUUDE.

I proceeded to lecture him and trap him in intellectual corners for another half hour or so. He was becoming more enamored with me by the second. I can’t say I wasn’t having fun – it’s amazing to feel so powerful and adored.

And then I got bored.

“I’ve got to go walk the dog,” I said (best excuse ever to get out of a boring date).

“What are you doing after that?” he asked.

“Oh, probably just going to sleep” (it was 7:30 pm, but whatever).

“Wanna come over and watch the baseball game?”

Seriously? I just completely exposed you as an unthinking idiot, and you a) actually want to keep hanging out with me, and b) seriously think I want to keep hanging out with you?

No thanks, brah. But keep working for the federal government and talking about how much you hate the establishment. I mean, hey, if it works for you, all the best.

 

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