A wise woman once told me that until I was older and ready to get super serious, I should always be dating at least three guys at a time, the ‘triad’ if you would. The logic behind this golden rule being that if one or more of them were on a man-period or acting like a little bitch, there was always the one lesser annoying guy for you to spend the night with. Being about 20 years old at the time I figured, why not; men do it all the time. Ladies is pimps too; please excuse me while I spend the next seven years going and brushing my shoulders off.
The danger in this strategy is that you become blissfully numb in all of your relationships with the opposite sex. You are now essentially the emotionally detached dude that all of your female friends spend countless hours crying over, and when they inquire as to if you think he’s ‘only looking for sex’ from them, you awkwardly scrunch your nose and recognize that this scenario sounds all too familiar.
After the inevitable demise of an emotionally draining relationship with a blatant narcissist when I first moved to San Diego, I decided it was time to re-initiate the ‘doing whatever the fuck I want’ sequence that I’d mastered so well in college. Only this time, after months of entertaining awkward Tinder message chains with obvious perverts and convincing countless unsuspecting men at bars to spend their pretty pennies on my newly escalated drinking vice, I found myself dating four different men at the same time. “Why on earth was I wasting so much time in relationships?’ I thought. ‘I’m livin’ the good life now!’
Allow me to introduce the characters in the deliciously hilarious Rom-Com that soon became my life.