Calling all formerly unpopular girls

Does he not notice the ring?

You don’t want to date me. I’ll break your heart. Or maybe you’ll break mine. One way or another, this will end in heartbreak.

Or maybe it won’t. Maybe this time it’ll be different—I mean that. The truth is, I only started off with, “You don’t want to date me,” to make you want me more. Reverse psychology.

As you can see, I do play games. Because they work. Consistently. Don’t try and tell me otherwise, because I’ve experimented. Don’t tell me “I like guys who don’t play games,” because it’s not true. You do like them. You only dislike the guys who play games poorly.

I actually play fewer games than most guys.* Really—ask any of my ex-girlfriends. If you get in contact with them, they’ll tell you the most wonderful things about me, and that’s because I’m a nice guy.

I’m not “nice” in the platonic sense—I want to sleep with you, and I want it to happen sooner rather than later—I’m “nice” in the traditional sense. For example, if I like your black skirt and hate your beige one, I won’t criticize the beige one when you put it on; I’ll wait until you wear the black one and then say, “I love that black skirt so much. We should get you more just like it.”

When I’m not being a romantic diplomat, I’m performing card tricks at magic club, playing show tunes at Don’t Tell Mama’s on Fremont St., and reading non-fiction books at Borders. I also have some non-geeky hobbies (e.g., working out at LVAC, playing poker at Mirage, clubbing at Wynn and Encore), but I led with the geeky stuff because if any of it scares you off, then, well, off you go. If you think the geeky stuff is “weird” or “gay,” then it’s not going to work.

Did I mention I’m employed?

Also, I’m 28.

Now let’s talk about you. Here’s what I know about you already: you’re still reading this. Like I said, I’m a big reader, too, so it appears we have at least one thing in common….

But aside from literacy, what do I look for in a girl?

Here goes:

1) Your Identity

You were gawky and unpopular in middle school and everybody made fun of you. But then, all of a sudden, you got really hot and everybody wanted to be your friend and kiss you. And you resented them for only valuing you for your looks. So you left home, moved to Vegas, and are searching for a guy who not only appreciates the swan you’ve become but also identifies with and respects the ugly duckling you once were.**

2) Your Mind

On the one hand, your intelligence doesn’t matter that much to me. On the other hand, I have a pretty consistent track record of dating women who are smarter than me.

3) Your Looks

They’re really important. Looks are really important to every guy. Including blind guys. If a guy tells you otherwise, he’s lying. So please don’t penalize me for saying that looks are “really important,” because if you do penalize me for that, then I’ll be afraid to be honest around you, and this will lead to conflict down the line.

4) Your Thoughts on Love

I can’t decide if romance is the most important thing in the world or the only important thing—I keep going back and forth on that one. If, for you, romance is just one of many important things (your job, your friends, your family, your religion) then you’re going to think I’m needy and dramatic.

5) Everything Else

I can deal with baggage and mental illness and addiction and lying and crazy Vegas work hours. The only absolute deal-breaker is meanness.

Still reading? Then why not track me down on facebook? I’m not hard to find. I go by, “Ricky,” not “Rick.” (I only go by “Rick” in print because my editor once told me, “Nobody wants to read nonfiction from a ‘Ricky.’”)

Talk to you soon, hopefully. I’m bored and deeply in need of inspiration. How about you?


*You can believe this because, well, if I were going to lie about game playing (as most guys do), I’d tell you that I don’t play ‘em at all.

**If you were hot and popular in middle school, you won’t ‘get’ me. You’ll ‘jokingly’ call me “weird,” but I won’t find it funny. I’ll find it dismissive and sad—sad for you, not me. Oh, and here’s another sad thing: if you’re super-hot, I’ll probably hide my “weirdness” from you long enough to sleep with you. It’s a bad habit I’m trying to break it.


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