We’ve all got them. I’m not talking nitpicky, Libby Copeland-type stuff. I mean major lifestyle choices, hobbies, and social behavior that is just unacceptable. Now, a dealbreaker is not a death sentence. If you are perfect in every other respect and then mention that you possess one of the dealbreakers, I *might* be willing to overlook it. On the other hand, if you are borderline, that db is going to be enough to make me be nice to you but if you try to close it is not going to work and I’m going to go home with your friend who has long nosehairs.
The most egregious dealbreaker, for me, is living outside the District. I don’t have a car, and while I really don’t mind taking the bus or metro to an easily accessible outside-the-district locale (say, Pentagon City), if you tell me that you live in Alexandria, it’s over. For one thing, that eliminates the possibility that I can without significant hassle – because I hate hassles – sleep over on a weeknight or bring homemade food to your parties. It also means that we really can’t do spontaneously fun things in my neighborhood together and it means that if we hang out, it will probably be for an extended period of time, and then I will want to kill you by the end of the day.
The second worst is telling me that you work for an asshole or an asshole company or organization. Granted, what constitutes an asshole is subjective but I can say right now that if you work for Senator Conrad Burns, a pro-life organization, or a certain PR company that I am not going to mention but has a major morally-bankrupt client, you might as well buy me a drink to apologize for being an asshole by ass-ociation (couldn’t resist) and then walk away slowly so I don’t kick you in the balls. However, there are things I can overlook if all other characteristics are in order, like working at Heritage Foundation, because I’ve never actually met an asshole who worked for them. If I do however, Heritage is going to be on notice.
Okay, thirdly, if you are into competitive biking or cycling or whatever you toolsheds prefer it to be called, then I am most certainly not interested in you. Lance Armstrong? Ha, I laugh at your tight pants and can’t believe that you are even able to be a womanizer. Mountain biking and casual city-biking is okay (I actually hate bicycles and haven’t been on one in about 10 years but I’m willing to make concessions), but if you’ve ever been one of those guys on the side of the road in the decorative spandex outfit, you can forget it.
Other. And this is a dealbreaker that can completely trump everything. If we are strangers and we’re talking and everything is fine and then you mention oral sex – in any way, even just telling me a seemingly innocuous story – I’m going to be polite but you’re basically dead to me. That is just not something you bring up in conversation with people you don’t know and in fact talking about it with men is probably going to ick most girls out. If it doesn’t, men you are either dealing with a real live megaslut or a total psycho who is later going to stalk you. Which if that’s what you want, then good.
Additionally, if we go out together and you don’t wash your hands after the bathroom, that’s disgusting. It’s even more disgusting if I call you out on it and you defend yourself for not washing your hands and try to give me some reason like that your penis is probably the cleanest thing you’ve touched all day. That’s a true story, and I almost threw up in my hands at the time, which I try to do only once a year, and hopefully only because of my own volition. But you can be damn sure that I wash my hands after and not try to claim that because it’s my own vomit and because it’s mostly acid anyway, my hands are now even cleaner!
Lastly, if you have a nut allergy, you’re a freak and I’m not going to stab you with an Epipen, nor am I going to go out with you ever because that’s just terrifying. Ever notice how these nut allergies only seemed to crop up in the last decade or two? Your parents probably did some completely fucked up drugs in the 70s and 80s and passed it onto you in your genes. Also, I’m not a baby-sitter and did I mention that I am not going to stab you with an Epipen just because someone breathed on you after eating a Nutrageous?
Anyhoo, I’ll be sauntering – prancing, even? – around at the HHH tonight, and I like free things so even though I am completely intimidating, please come buy me a drink and then we can talk shit about everyone.