My interactions with women are kind of like my interactions with produce.
Best when they're organic and usually spoil after about three days.
Three days.
Which is my own fault.
Don't awe for that, because it's my fault.
It's my own * fault.
Because at this age in my life, I have never had a serious relationship.
I've never had a serious relationship.
Never had a girlfriend for more than a few months.
Never lived with a girlfriend.
Never traveled with a girlfriend.
Never met a girlfriend's parents.
Never done any of that stuff.
And that bothers me, because I'm realizing I need to figure my * out.
Or I need to become a serial killer.
It's a wake-up call when you watch a documentary about a serial killer
and the way his neighbors describe him could be the way your OKCupid profile reads.
Just like, yeah, he was really neat and clean.
Threw his trash out in the middle of the night.
Quiet, except for when he was shredding.
Holy *, that's me.
I need to start eating people.
And I love basements.
I love basements.
I do, because I didn't grow up with basements.
And I went, I remember as a kid, I went to Cleveland.
And people in Cleveland, they have these amazing basements.
They're finished basements, where they turn them into little movie theaters and rec rooms.
And I always thought that was really cool.
But as a single man in his 30s, apartment hunting in New York,
I can't go up to somebody and be like,
hey, so what's the basement situation like?
Is it soundproof?
I've realized I will commit to a bad TV show before a decent relationship.
It's true, there are times my DVR, I think my DVR just looks at me and is like,
really? Really? Really?
You're gonna see Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. again?
Really?
I * hate that show.
You scream at the TV.
You called it Scooby-Doo on an airplane.
But you're gonna give it another week.
Really?
But Teresa had to go because she doesn't eat pork.
She was a photojournalist from Chile, man.
Which let me just say, in my defense,
pork is delicious.
It's so good.
And I know that's immature, that's immature.
But I've realized I'm immature.
I still buy condoms like I did when I was in high school.
I do, where I try to make sure there's nobody in the aisle with me.
And then I go quickly *** the condoms and I sandwich them
between a magazine and a box of oatmeal.
The magazine cradles it like a taco.
The box of oatmeal hides it.
Then I take it up to the counter.
I * wait, make sure nobody's around.
Slide it to the...
And the clerk make no eye contact.
Pay cash so there is no record of this transaction.
Sometimes I don't even wait for change.
I just * run out the door.
Because my big fear is that I'll be on a date at some point
and the clerk from the drugstore will show up and be like,
ooh, is this who you *?
Ooh, girl, you should be careful.
He's just gonna feed you oatmeal in the morning.
Which I am.
Which I am.
Which I am.