Let's talk turkey

By Gina Angostura
NH Mirror Staff

In a perfect world, every day would be Thanksgiving. And I don’t mean that we’d gorge ourselves on turkey and gravy, stuffing and pumpkin pie all the time, although that would be super awesome.

I mean we would all take the time to ponder every day the wonderful things we enjoy in our lives. Coupled or single, we really have so much to be thankful for.

For instance, I’m thankful that I’m not married to the guy I met on a recent tour I took of a large university my daughter is considering attending. He was the best-looking dad in the group. I do check my surroundings when I go out, arranging guys I see on my imaginary to-do list.

He was cute, with longish silver hair, almost a mullet, but I’m willing to overlook that. Hell, I’m willing to overlook most things these days. Out of work? I’ll make you dinner. Out of shape? I’ll bring you your dinner so you don’t have to get out of your chair.

But my generosity disappeared when the guy opened his mouth. We’d just walked through a library reading room on the main floor of the five-story building. The guide told us that most of the collection was on other floors and we wouldn’t see many books.

As we walked back outside, I held the door for him and heard him say, “I am not impressed,” in that annoying fake whisper when you’re pretending to be polite but you want everyone to hear. Then he said it again, this time louder, so everyone was informed of his “opinion.”

I guess a library with more than a million volumes and an agreement with some bigger Boston schools to use their resources wasn’t good enough for him.

I’m making a judgment call here, and maybe it’s not fair, but I have the feeling that the only thing this guy reads are some three-year-old motorcycle magazines he keeps on the back of his toilet. He is definitely a graduate of UPA, which, for the record, is not in Pennsylvania. I’ll give you a hint: the middle initial stands for “pretentious.”

One big reason I’m having trouble finding a suitable match is that it’s hard to find an intelligent man who is humble about it. You can have an extensive knowledge about a subject, but be careful how you disseminate it. It’s a fine line between conversation and condescension.

I’ve dated men who said my knives weren’t sharp enough for cooking, that the wine I chose was ridiculous and that my taste in movies was pedestrian.

It’s getting so that I don’t even want to go out with anyone with a master’s or a PhD. Not that I get a lot of those.

But there must be nice men in the middle of the range between those who can’t spell “dining”– it doesn’t have two n’s, for freak’s sake – and the oenophiles who lecture me on regions and varietals until I want to stab myself in the heart with a corkscrew.

Does your misery love company? Send Gina an e-mail at singlecynic@thenhmirror.com.