Dear future boyfriend: please be hot


Dear future boyfriend: please be hot

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Shana wants a boyfriend, and she’s not fucking around. Dear Future Boyfriend, I just got home from an appointment with my psychic, Charlene. Normally, she just tells me to work on my


relationship with my father. You know how it is, he’s always so aggressive with me because I chose to study Communications instead of Pre-Law and then “wasted” his money on sorority stuff.


Look, it’s not my fault that the girls kicked me out after one year. How was I to know that they’d frown upon a public indecency charge? Don’t blame me, blame Swedish Fish-flavored vodka. I


should probably call my family attorney over this but I just can’t deal with the hassle. Anyway! Charlene told me that there was a chance we’d find each other soon. This is great news,


because I was really started to feel like it would never happen. Cats just aren’t for me, you know? They’re way too high maintenance, and I am nothing if not a chill, laid back kinda gal. I


just want to tell you how excited I am to meet you. Each night, when the sky darkens and the shores of blissful sleep approach, nothing else comes to mind but your handsome (are you


handsome? Oh god, you’d better be handsome) face. Someday soon you will take me into your arms and embrace me with love and tenderness. You will, most likely, have arms. I mean, this one is


definitely negotiable, but either way you need to be incredibly movie-star attractive, probably. Future Boyfriend, it’s so exciting to think that I might finally have a partner in crime,


someone who will join me in getting really wasted at the open bar during my youngest cousin’s Bar Mitzvah. Judaism’s a requirement so if you’re not Jewish, Future Boyfriend, I am so ready to


help lead you on your journey of religious conversion ASAP. Also, my cousin turns thirteen next month, so you really need to find me by then because I can’t show my face at the final family


Bar Mitzvah without a boyfriend. I’m turning twenty-five soon, and you’re really pushing it with the timing thing. What’s taking you so long? Maybe you’re in the Peace Corps, working in a


tiny Third World country to build wells for villagers. Actually, please don’t be in a tiny Third World country building wells for villagers. They have malaria in Third World countries and


I’m pretty terrified of getting malaria. Can’t you just do what everyone else does after college and take a gap year to backpack around like, Croatia or something? One of my friends did that


and she said it was literally life-changing. I can’t stand how you’re always trying to look like such a saint. Nobody’s keeping score of how many wells you build for poverty-stricken


communities, buddy. Just go to fucking Croatia. Meanwhile, we should probably get our plans straight. Do you want to live in a big, airy apartment in the city? That’s my ideal housing


situation. Also, I’ve always imagined myself having a lot of kids. Nobody knows what the future holds, so we should definitely start discussing these things right away. While you’ve been out


there doing community service in El Salvador or whatever, I’ve had a lot of time to think about my future. But first, just imagine how lovely it will feel to curl up on the couch together


and watch movies in the living room. I hope your couch isn’t leather, because I’m not a vegan but I feel weird about leather on furniture. But yeah, we can cuddle up together (I have to be


the little spoon, obviously), and watch Studio Ghibli films in a dark room, under the glow of string lights. No, we’re not watching _My Neighbor Totoro_. Jesus, why do you always do this??


Stop pushing for Totoro every time, it’s getting really annoying. We are watching _Kiki’s Delivery Service_, and I won’t humor your crap. It’s a great movie, get over it. On Sunday mornings,


we can cook breakfast together. Actually, Sunday doesn’t work for me, it’s hot yoga day. Okay so on Saturday mornings we can cook breakfast together. I’ll turn on the radio and that one


song that’s really cute, what’s it called? I think it’s by Ingrid Michaelson. Anyway, that song will come on the radio and we’ll dance around the kitchen cooking and thinking about our


future together, then we’ll sit down at the table and eat and smile over organic eggs and avocado toast topped with pink Himalayan salt and red pepper flakes. Most importantly, Future


Boyfriend, you’ll be my best friend in the whole world. We’ll sit down every night and discuss our days, talk about our problems, and laugh about Debbie in Accounting at your office. You


know, the one who always complains that someone’s eating her sandwiches out of the communal fridge? It’s me, by the way. I eat her sandwiches when I stop by to drop off your lunch. I’ll


never actually tell you about it, but honestly, the thrill of eating Debbie’s sandwiches carries me through the week. It’s just hard sometimes, when I want to connect with you but all you


want to do is go over the reasons why you think we should buy a leather couch. Future Boyfriend, I promise I will stand by you in the darkest of times as well as in the best moments. Thank


you in advance for killing all bugs that find their way into the apartment. It’s super important to me. And please be handsome. I know we haven’t yet crossed paths, but I know you’re out


there. I can feel it deep in my soul. One day, I too will have a love of my own, and that love will be you. Future Boyfriend, I can’t wait to meet you. Charlene is almost never wrong about


anything, except for the time she told me to just wait and buy Hamilton tickets in a few months but then the price shot up to $10,000 and I never got to see it. All my love, Your Future


Girlfriend, Shana.