All the Single Ladies

Now that I've met some cute guys, and have some upcoming dates set up, a thought dawns on me. What do the other females seeking single men in my area look like? It's time to look at the competition. I sign on and run a search.

Well, let's see. There seem to be 3 categories for applicant photos:
1. The Girl Next Door: Standing in front of a fountain, wall of roses, or some other neutral setting, smiling and looking innocent enough. Don't be fooled- it's usually the quiet ones that are the craziest. Like the girl in your office who only wears pale shades of pink and grey, and walks around with her stringy hair in her face; 4 glasses of chardonnay in at the holiday party and she's in the corner making out with Bill, the guy who's been there since before she was born and smells like dirty laundry.

2. The Dude Make it a Double: I like to kick my shoes off and have a good time as much as the next girl, but I don't need to let the world know how wicked awesome I am with photos of me clutching a Bud Heavy and making a kissy face - you know who you are.

3. The Hawaiian Tropic Reject: I don't care if you have a six-pack and a chest to rival Pamela Anderson's, if you put up photos in bikinis and low-cut shirts, you're attracting The Flexer. Which is probably your type. In that case you'll spend many happy weekends cruising town in his Camaro. T-top baby.

Let's Talk About Pecs

I'd like to take a minute to discuss a certain breed of male that participates in online dating. The Flexer. He's the same guy who always seems to be at the gym, no matter what time of day you go, wearing Hammer pants and a Gold's Gym t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off so far his nipples are peeking out at you.

Using his dating profile as an online gallery of his finest topless poses, The Flexer doesn't bother with silly details like his level of education, his occupation (duh, weight lifting), or where he'll take you to on your first date (duh, the gym). No, he just wants you to see his totally awesome bod that he's worked so hard for.

Now, I'm all about physical fitness, but when a guy starts looking like he has bowling balls in his arms I'm running for the door. So, dear Flexers of the world, I don't want you to send me a message that says, "Hi Gorgeous" with a photo of you flexing in your mother's kitchen with your shirt off. Or on the beach last summer in your Hawaiian-print Hollister bathing suit drinking a cold one.

Is it so much to ask for brains and brawn?