Well, another wasted evening, another potential “Mr. Right” walking out of my life. I guess I should be used to it by now, because it’s just so typical: Men will talk all day about how much they value ambition and intelligence in a partner, but when they finally meet a successful, educated gorgon, all of a sudden they head for the hills.
Needless to say, a smart and sophisticated companion isn’t what these men are actually looking for. No, what they really want is some easily impressed mortal who’ll laugh at all their jokes. Someone who won’t challenge their minds or disagree with their opinions. Someone who lacks a visage so terrifying it turns all beholders into solid stone.
I suppose I could giggle, bat my eyes, and absent-mindedly twirl a fanged, hissing serpent around my fingers—but that’s not who I am.
Look, I bring a lot to the table. I’ve got an MBA from Harvard, I run my own company, I have the deadly power to steal the very breath of life from all who gaze upon me, and I’m in great shape. If I were a man, I’d be admired and even envied for these things. But I’m not, and because of that, men find me threatening. When I walk into a room, they turn away in fear, shutting their eyes tight and clambering out of the room in a panic.
These are grown men we’re talking about!
This is my kind of humor.