Deal Breakers

By Robert Hoffman
© 2012 Robert Hoffman and Diversity Rules Magazine.  All Rights Reserved.
www.diversityrulesmagazine.com
Contact Robert with your feedback! He’d love to hear from you! robshof@aol.com.

You’re hanging out at your fave bar with a clutch of your friends.  I use the word “clutch” because it’s more fun.  Like a small handbag dripping with diamonds and rubies.  Anywho, you spot a guy in a pair of tight jeans and a wife-beater with his back toward you.  His body is perfection.  Muscles popping out of his tank, great hair in the back, and a butt you could eat your eggs on.  Your friends notice you staring at this demi-god as he turns in your direction.  One of your friends gasps as you throw up a little in your mouth: he’s got a face like a foot.  The eyes aren’t aligned quite right, the nose is crooked in two directions, and there’s a gaggle of moles for you to play connect-the-dots.  Foot-face notices you looking and he gives you a smile with his tooth.  That, my friends, is a deal breaker.  The body of death is trumped by the hideous face.  No way you’re interested in that.  What would your friends say?  You start scanning the room for someone else.
 
When we’re young, there’s a whole different set of rules for hooking up.  You want the most gorgeous guy in the room.  If your friends are watching, you don’t settle for anything less.  Of course you go home alone every night with Rosie Palm as your date.  But still, you can’t have your friends making fun of you for sleeping with anything less than to-die-for.  “I see you hooked up with Acne Face the other night.  Did you use Oxy-10 for lube?” 

If you’re out cruising alone, though, with no chance of your friends finding out who you hooked up with, the rules, i.e. standards, change.  Well, they sink.  To the bottom of your very shallow pool.  You’ll flirt and go home with the guy with the sideboobs.  You know the one: he’s got the shirt with the arm holes cut out and if you stand on his side, you can see his pasty, fleshy boobs resting atop his stomach.  You’ll do the guy with the toupee, or the guy with the very messy hair-don’t, or the guy with the tufts of hair sticking out of the back of the neck of his shirt, or even the guy with the ping-pong paddle ears.  Your standards have all but disappeared.
 
As you get older, you’ll notice that, indeed, your standards have disappeared.  You’ll do Mr. Acne Face as a badge of honor.  You can tell your friends, “I got someone who is young enough to need Oxy-10.”  “Those sideboobs disappear when he lays on his back and throws his legs in the air.”  “The toupee is a Dolce and Gabbana original!  He’s worth millions!”  Of course, bad breath is one deal breaker you can never over look.  But that foot-face?  Just shove his head into a pillow while you go to town.

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