Calling all cat ladies, perpetual third wheelers, #foreveralone bitches, and the bridesmaids who are never the brides.
There’s hope for you after all.
Russia is literally renting out men to be your husband. It’s called “Moscow Husband For An Hour” and it’s everything we ever dreamed of. Basically, it’s a service for single women who don’t want to do shit around the house, WHICH IS ALL OF US. Nice move, Russia. According to The Moscow Times, this private company will provide “young and strong men with a huge set of technical skills, who will perform handyman work around the clock.”
Let’s highlight something really quick: “a huge set of technical skills.”
Yeah. I know. We’re all drooling. Unfortunately, from what I’ve gathered, they are not paid prostitutes or strippers. The ad for the company goes on to say:
You’ve just spent a long time in a store selecting a new light fixture for your hallway to perfectly match your new decor. But you’re a beautiful woman with a killer manicure that was done only yesterday, and you’re not ready to get intimate with a noisy and horribly vibrating drill. Who can come to your rescue in this case?
And okay, sure, I guess it might be a little sexist, but let’s be real — they hit the nail on the head. We don’t want to do that shit. The thought of building things after a long day at work is enough to make me have a quiet cry at my desk (not that I’m doing that right now or anything). Plus, if he’s a “husband for an hour,” I would 100 percent spend that time asking him to rub my feet and convince me that I’m prettier than my bitchy friend. Apparently, however, this marketing plan isn’t going over too well in Russia, which is crazy. Come on over to America, boys. I have some light fixtures that need hanging.
According to the article, the prices are dirt cheap and these husbands will even work for free if the ladies (or families, no judgements) aren’t in a great place financially. It’s been fun, America, but I have a feeling that Russia might be the place for me. Finally, there’s hope of having a husband ’til death do us part. Or, you know, for an hour at a time, at least..