Two Up, Two Down - I Think It's Some Bullshit

Note:  My last piece, Waiting to Exhale, was kind of deep and caught one of my faithful readers off guard.  So I decided to lighten it up again to give yall a break from the angst.  That piece was hard to write, though.  I felt every word when I wrote it and I feel them every time I re-read them…and they hurt.  This one, though, tickles me so hopefully you will get a few laughs.

Have you heard of the “two up, two down” rule for who you are eligible to date?  That means you can date people who are two up or two down from whatever hotness “rating” you are.  For example, if you are an 8 your range is 6 to 10.  Sounds pretty good, except… what if you don’t want to go down?

I’m a solid 7.  I’m cute on the regular day but I can go from scruffy to stunner when I “clean up”.  I have a nice smile and fantastic legs.  I’ve even been called mesmerizing.  (Lame line but I blushed…a sister loves a compliment!) So yeah, I can confidently rate myself as a 7.  But I don’t want a brother that’s a 5.  Why should I have to settle for one just because someone came up with this stupid rule?

I mean, I can understand the rule.  It keeps people grounded in reality and SHOULD keep folks from getting their feelings hurt.  A 3 should not be trying to holler at a dime, expecting a favorable result. (Why is it always the dude hollering at the girl that is out his league and not the other way around?  Maybe it’s because girls don’t tell about when they get shot down.  We have more discretion…and pride.)  I understand the concept of “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”.  Some folks might not rate me as high as I do.  Hell, I’m just learning to value my-damn-self.  I’ve undervalued myself for so long it’s been a struggle to see myself for who and what I really am.  (That’s for another day.)  But if I think a dude is a 5 – and that’s bad because I am generally very generous – he doesn’t have a shot.  YOU might think my man is a 5 but I don’t care.  As long as I think he’s at least a 5.5 (smile) he’s in there.   I want a dude that I WANT…you know what I’m saying without me having to say it?  I mean, I want to think about his smile and smile.  I want to think about his eyes and remember how it feels when he looks at me.  I want to think about his arms and feel his hugs even when he’s not there.  I want the mere thought of his hands to conjure up memories of his caresses on my face.  I want to think about his ass sometimes, too, and think how nicely it fits into my hands…kind of like a double cheeseburger.  I do NOT want to think “he is all right…I just have to move his stomach over to get to it.”  #ijustthrewupinmymouth.  Again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder but dammit, I want to behold the kind of beauty that is beautiful to ME.  (I used to have a type but I haven’t dated a tall and skinny man in the 2000s so clearly beauty has been redefined.)

Am I shallow?  Maybe but so are you.  Quit playing…you don’t want a knuckle dragger either.  Hell, I know that some dudes might not be mesmerized by me so they pass me by.  Their loss.  I’m a good woman.  Go ahead and say it:  An average dude might be a good dude.   Yes, I might be missing out.  I think every single, solitary one of us has missed out on somebody that could have made us happy.  I think if we are honest, there is somebody we think about from the past.  But trust and believe, I don’t long for the 5.

(While I’m sitting her bullshitting, I need to be sending an email to the one who makes me smile when I think of his smile…you didn’t think I just came up with that, do you?  I had somebody in mind!  HE needs to quit tripping before I’M the one that got away….)