I have received hundreds of letters asking me the same question: “How do you do it, J.Lo?” the letters ask. “How do you spend several minutes every week slaving over this column, and still find time to chase emotionally unavailable women?” The answer, my friends, is that I make the time.
Any fool can stumble into a relationship with a nice, nurturing person. It’s what I call the tyranny of the uninspired.
Who wants to live in comfort and security with someone who merrily does your laundry, and slips little love notes into your lunch bag? Yawn. Where’s the name-calling? Where’s the cool indifference? Where are the unreturned phone calls? Where’s the infidelity?
Consistently choosing the wrong person doesn’t just happen. It takes discipline, hard work, and a stubborn refusal to stay on your medication. Want to know how it’s done? Here is an example of a typical day in my life:
• Wake up. Take Maximus to the dog park. While Max flirts with high-strung, yippy poodle, I flirt with the poodle’s high-strung, yippy owner. (Note to self and Max: Don’t try to sniff their butts again. Remember what happened the last time. Ouch!)
• Take bus to work. Pretend the crazy guy sitting next to me singing a patter song about the stuff he has found in dumpsters is Catherine Zeta Jones. She is sulking because I have refused to stay home from work to make beautiful love to her. Smile at my reflection in the grimy window, and feel good about my commitment to my job.
• Bring cup of coffee to straight, married coworker I secretly have been in love with for five years. When she makes vague complaint against her husband, encourage her to divorce him. On my way out of her office, pretend to stumble, and land squarely with my face in her cleavage.
• Send an ambiguously worded e-mail to a woman I have a crush on. Check e-mail every three minutes for the next four hours to see if she has responded. When she doesn’t respond, send her another e-mail—just in case she didn’t get the first one.
• Lunchtime! Meet a friend who is going through a bad breakup. Listen as friend weeps out her tale of woe. Hand her a tissue, and ask if this is a bad time to get her ex-girlfriend’s phone number. Act hurt when she storms out of the restaurant without paying her share of the bill.
• Spend the afternoon with gay male coworker. Speculate on how many drinks it would take to get various authority figures to sleep with us. Debate whether I should allow gay male coworker to transform me into a “women of mystery” by dressing me in leopard-print fabrics and pillbox hats with veils.
• Meet potential love interest for drinks. Fall in love briefly, but quickly lose my ardor when she takes a genuine interest in my life, and laughs at my jokes. Tap my fingers impatiently, and refuse to make eye contact with her while waiting for the bill.
• Climb into bed, and call my mother. Discuss the latest reasons why I’ve disappointed her. Reinforce roots of my attraction to women who are impossible to please. Go to sleep, and dream about Grace Kelly and other icy blondes.
Hey, I wrote a book! You can buy Dateland at Amazon.com.