… I’ve been distracted by while I was just trying to run some errands …
Adulting and single, but not quite ready to mingle? Me too girl, me too.
It’s a weird limbo – I’m at an age where I could totally be looking for a serious relationship, but also know I need to focus on other things.
(You know, like my career, my incessant travel bug, crumbling student debt, that sort of stuff.)
I’m not actively looking, but open to it if someone worthy comes around. But then again, is there anyone truly so wonderful that I would redirect my future plans?
(Actually, yes. That person is and will always be Chris Pine. For sure.)
You know how it kind of seems like the only attractive, Grade A guys on Earth are in the movies now, and thus are unattainable to mere mortals like us? I realize I’m not looking for a husband right now or anything, but let’s be honest – I can’t be the only one lacking contact with age appropriate ‘men’ with at least the maturity level of, well, myself.
I can’t find them in real life, because scripted and rehearsed romance is totally more what I’m looking for right now. The latest girl crush, fyi, is Noah Centineo; and he actually starred in the film that inspired this post.
Three cheers for cheesy teenage rom-coms!
(I don’t agree, though, for the record. My current crush is activist Cameron Kasky. But that’s beside the point.)
So, my girlfriends and I popped open a bottle of wine and shared stories about our own personal celebrities: the men we pass by on our every day adventures. Here are our stories about the ones we are thankful for because they keep life a little interesting.
Like back in August, when I went to get a new tattoo with a friend of mine. My artist came out to ask me a few questions, and I did that thing you see in movies where the girl totally tunes the guy out because she is so focused on how attractive they are? And suddenly I just hear “hello Earth to Lex??” and then they have to repeat the question? Except it wasn’t cute like in the movies – it was embarrassing because it was real life and it was me. So when he went back to finish the sketch my aforementioned friend turned to me, looked me straight in the eye, pretended to wipe something off my chin and says “hey dude, stop drooling would ya?”
Embarrassing? Yes.
Comical? Affirmative.
But am I complaining? Absolutely not.
I got a new tattoo while making small talk and flirting with a very cute man, so all in all, great day.
Or while I’m tucked away in my corner at Starbucks doing homework, and there’s that fluctuation of cute guys walking in and my mind goes right to the movies as if he’ll just come on over and sit down and strike up a clever conversation. As if we’ll laugh and fall in love as time goes by and suddenly the store is closing before we even realize we’ve been there for so long. When in reality I may get a smile, mini hand wave, and I’m left with endless possibilities of fake conversations running through my mind.
(But of course there are also the older men who direct their gaze over, even if they’re sitting there with who I can only assume to be their wife. I divert my eyes and hope I don’t need to throw any punches, but hey it keeps me alert.)
Did I mention the cute police officer busy directing traffic? I realize we all have places to be but do you mind if I just stop right here and cause a jam?
Instead I’ll wave and that’ll be that. Maybe I’ll see you later at Starbucks, hopefully, if the universe thinks I should have a good day.

Or that one night I was out at a bar with my friends celebrating birthdays, and we’re all sitting down with a few new guy friends, right? Right. So we’re laughing, having fun, and one of them looks at me and says “watch this.” A few seconds later he hands me a FLOWER made from a NAPKIN and naturally I thought it was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Does this really happen to people? Is this just birthday luck? Who is this guy? Did he also just hand me a ring he made from a dollar bill?
I need another drink.
If you think I wore that dollar bill ring and carried that flower around all night you are absolutely correct.
If you also think we never got in touch again after that night, and have since just gone our separate ways, then you are also absolutely correct.
(For the record, there are video tutorials online for anyone who wants to learn either of these fun (and easy) party tricks.)
And at the autumn fairs when my girlfriend and I are walking around desperate to find cow-spotted overalls, asking every cute guy working the games or food booths if they have seen them anywhere. Hey, maybe we find them, maybe we get a double date out of it. Either way, it’s win.
(It’s really a win when the guy lets your little cousin win the goldfish no matter what, even though none of us are really that great at throwing the bouncy balls into the small fish bowls. Oh, then he offers to find you a job. Good man, but no thank you.)

Or on the commute to work, I pass by a cute firefighter on the train. We don’t speak to one another, but we exchange a single head nod and mutually understand that it replaces all niceties and small talk.
Just past that hero are the men in suits travelling to their finance desk jobs. How riveting. I think about how they could set me up for life and I could have my beach house and travel and never have to do my own finances. But, then again, are they really worth my time? I can settle with secretly admiring, and judging, them from a few rows away.
Or the ever so precious teenager that works the register at Target, right as the sale on bralettes goes live. Poor timing for him because, I’m sorry, but us 20-somethings cannot pass up a bralette sale. He turns bright red as he has to handle the lacy bras, like he is so embarrassed to be touching anything that isn’t a video game. Just know that you are adorable and you made me giggle all day long at the thought of this encounter.

We could talk about my personal favorite: the lingering eyes at the gym. When I go over to the ‘heavy’ machinery where I need to share the equipment with these boys who are so clearly always skipping leg day. When I just go over, adjust the weights, and quickly glance around to see a handful of these people looking at me as if I don’t belong, as if I shouldn’t know how to use this stuff. As if there’s no way I could have played collegiate athletics before I became washed up and had to do these drills at 5am every week.
(Silly boys. Surprise! I squat more than you do.)
But their faces when they realize I actually know what I’m doing, that I don’t need a spotter, and have better form than most of them? Well, that’s priceless. It’s the little things, right?
(for the record: i’m kidding. this is not my favorite. please don’t actually watch women exercise. I know you love to record yourself lifting, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but no one actually cares that you went to the gym. so mind your own beeswax, please.)

Nonetheless, shout out to all of the men that keep us on our toes as we roam through our day-to-day life. The ones that are polite, kind, and give us a little hope for the future of mankind. And here’s to all the women I can turn to and tell these stories with, and for everyone who shared with me their own encounters so I could put together this piece.
It’s still amazing to me that I can run into so many people, and meet so many strangers, and yet I still have not run into Chris Pine. Maybe someday, if the universe thinks I deserve a good week. Until then, bad rom-coms it is.
You must be logged in to post a comment.