Can't Be Done
I am undateable, seriously - I am undateable. You don't see me, you can't want me because there's a guy with a full compliment of muscles, tattoos, a motorcycle with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth standing behind me grabbing your attention. You know he is going to shag you just the way you want it but you also know he will hurt you: lie, cheat steal, beat you into the middle of next week to the point where makeup won't cover the bruises. Or maybe you are looking at the nerd over my left shoulder, the one with the glasses and the Bill Gates look who will give you your dreams but will then get so lost in drug use - he won't notice you or his kids. The confident man in the suit? He's a corporate hitman and brings home the money but the catch is he drinks, ALOT. To the point where he's sloppy, he's drooling and/or hitting on your friends and not noticing you glaring at him. Yes I am undateable because while I have faults, I am open and upfront about them. While I may argue, I will always apologize save for the third strike which will give me a pause for consideration. I'm undateable because I am an anomaly and everyone in this world is supposed to be the same: dress the same, behave the same and if you don't - our job is to breed you out of existence or use alternate methods to ensure your DNA doesn't pollute the gene pool.