AITA for Telling My Friend She’s in the Same League as the Men She Calls Ugly?
Let’s set the scene: My friend, let’s call her “Miss Self-Proclaimed-Boyfriend-Material,” has recently dipped her toes into the murky waters of online dating. And by “dipped” I mean cannonballed straight into the shallow end while wearing a blindfold. Welcome to the strange realm of Tinder and Hinge, also known as “The Great Unwashed Pool of Below-Average Choices.”
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So here’s the story: she’s just a normal gal, you know, the type that carries a “Boyfriend Wanted” sign around as if it’s a trendy handbag. She’s feeling all the feels—lonely, misunderstood, and, oh-so-ready for couple-y brunches and Netflix adaptations of her rom-com fantasies. But then… reality strikes, and she finds herself swiping through profiles that apparently don’t fit into her meticulously crafted beauty standards. Because who knew? According to her, most of the men are “ugly” and “short.” I mean, clearly they must all be hunchbacked trolls emerging from under some online bridge, begging for her attention.
When I asked to see what she was working with, I was painfully amused to discover her “ugly” picks: a gallery of perfectly mediocre gentlemen. You know, the kind with decent hairlines, maybe a gym membership they partially use and a lovable sense of mediocrity. But nope, apparently they’re not fitting her self-declared standards of attractiveness. Remember kids, this is a lady who claims she wants a relationship but disqualifies perfectly serviceable candidates as if they’re auditioning to play the lead in a Hollywood blockbuster.
So here I am, pointing out that if she doesn’t match with the ‘hot’ guys she’s after—who I’m guessing look like they just stepped off the pages of GQ—then logic dictates that maybe she should reconsider her idea of a league. But no. That’s just her being “pleasingly optically challenged.” Of course, in her wonderfully skewed perception, her stunning beauty (that I didn’t even know existed) places her far above these mere mortals.
And when I pointed out that the lovely roster of guys she was dismissing are actually living in the same league she claims to occupy, I was suddenly a villain in a rom-com plot twist. Yep, the classic tale where the best friend becomes the antagonist just for telling the truth. So apparently, I’m the jerk for introducing a bit of honesty in a world populated by swipes and shallow hearts.
To sum it up, it’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion, where the conductor insists they’re just waiting for the express to hotness-ville. Spoiler alert: that train doesn’t exist. So here’s to Miss Self-Proclaimed-Boyfriend-Material, continuing her quest for the unattainable, all while leaving behind a dazzling trail of sarcasm, disappointment, and perhaps a few moderately attractive dudes shaking their heads in confusion.
As for the “ugly” men she’s rejecting? Well, at least they’ll always have each other to commiserate about the gal who thought she was too hot for their genetic lottery.
(Disclaimer: This tale, depicting suburban love failures, is dedicated to everyone out there still spinning their dating wheels in the mystical land of Average-At-Best. You can’t make this shit up, but trust me, reality gives it a run for its money. Mainstream Dating Disasters, 2023.)