The benefits of trophy wifedom are great and plentiful. You pretty much don’t have to do shit besides drink cocktails and be hot. (Note: This is NOT housewifedom, because that requires work, and work is for ninnies.) Albeit, you’ll have to give a few blowjobs along the way, but what’s seven minutes of jaw discomfort and unpleasant man-pube scenery in exchange for a life of luxury? While I’m totally on board, and absolutely anticipating this lifestyle in my future, I’m also categorically certain that I’m not quite ready for it. First of all, the guys who are making a good enough living for me to have the full-on glamour life I’m hoping for are bordering on the outer parameter of “reasonable age to date.” I’d cap it at 36, but that’s because I have mild daddy issues. Secondly, and most importantly, in order to hold somebody captive for the rest of his life (read: marry him), you should probably be in love. While I absolutely see the allure of the L-word when you’re of marriageable age, which is 25 or older (because the best way to become a divorcee is to marry before you’re 25, look it up), right now I’m totally turned off by the idea of “love.” Eww. Why? I’m the farthest thing from a love slut, and I refuse to say it unless I absolutely mean it. This has probably done as much damage as its done good, but at least I’ve developed a few tactics to get out of reciprocating the dreaded L-word.
Just Make Out
This isn’t a permanent solution to the problem, but if you’re drawing a blank, use your feminine wiles and go for a passionate kiss. Turn your attention (and subsequently his attention) to his penis as soon as you can, and he will quickly forget about the unspeakable speak he just spoke. If he’s dumb enough, for the next several hours he will accept this as adequate reciprocation of his feelings, and won’t even think to question it until you’re at home and conveniently can’t locate your phone. You should be able to recycle this method at least a few times before you need to come up with some new material.
Question It
If you’re dating a timid guy, one who perhaps wasn’t totally comfortable spitting out that mouthful to begin with, make him second-guess what he just said, and he’ll probably take it back. You’re cuddling together in his bedroom, after a quiet night in and a bottle of wine, and he gets this look in his eyes. You start trying to think of ways to avoid having sex right now, and then he lays it on you: “I love you.” Think fast! A little giggle as if he’s not being serious, and “You do?” The ball is in his court now. You basically just said you thought he was joking when he tried to profess his love. There’s no recovering from that. He’ll quickly play along, and you’re off the hook for another couple of weeks, maybe months.
Tell Him He’s Wrong
This is my absolute favorite non-reciprocation of the L-word. I started it in like seventh grade when the nerdy guys who did my homework wanted to be my boyfriend (which, of course, meant nothing more than putting each other’s names in our AIM profiles with a quote from some top 40s love song). The exact quote I’ve literally been using for ten years: “You’re not in love with me, you’re in love with the idea of me.” Bullshit. A guy can’t just imagine he has feelings for you, but it’s very easy to convince him, in the moment of anxiety and confusion, that he can. He might get privy to your manipulation, and ask you what the hell that means. You can proceed with some malarkey about how he finds you attractive, and you’ve been a confidant to him, so he’s confusing your friendship with romance. It works like a charm, just never let him know about your trick, because if he knows about it, it can backfire. Recently, and I was on the receiving end of a snide “Well congratulations, because I think I’m in love with you. Excuse me, I mean the ‘idea’ of you, so you can go ahead and add me to that list of losers, heartless bitch.” Oops.
Happy heart-breaking, ladies.
Nice Move223
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Veronica Ruckh
Veronica (@VeronicaRuckh) is the Director of Total Sorority Move for Grandex, Inc. After having spent her undergraduate years drinking $4 double LITs on a patio and drunk texting away potential suitors, she managed to graduate with an impressive GPA and an unimpressive engagement ring -- so unimpressive, in fact, some might say it's not there at all. Veronica has since been fulfilling her duties as "America's big," a title she gave to herself with the help of her giant ego. She has recently switched from vodka to wine on weekdays. Email her at veronica@grandex.co
@VeronicaRuckh
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