I’m certainly not the first person to sit around with her friends and wax poetic about the finer points of a handful of well-known handsome men. My friends and I might disagree about which “celebrity” guy floats our particular boat, but it’s still not unusual for us to get girlie and giggle (even at this advanced age) just as I might have when Rick Springfield (guest starring on this season’s Californication, by the way) first made me wish that I was Jessie’s Girl.
It’s been suggested that girls (and certain nearly middle age females we all know and love) spend time fixated on the joys of these fantasy men rather putting themselves “out there”. After all, fantasy guy rarely disappoints. It’s one of his most endearing qualities. I take this suggestion in stride, as it’s very likely accurate. Wandering through an increasingly depressing bar scene pales even more when I can choose instead to stay home and watch “Solaris”. The bar scene makes me lament the future of humanity, while certain scenes in “Solaris” makes me celebrate mankind—or at least one particular man.
But here’s something that is somewhat unique to Los Angeles: fantasy guy could live down the street, be standing in your corner Starbucks, or driving by you as you wait to cross to the post office. In reality, fantasy guy is just another guy who lives in Los Angeles.
I can hear you thinking, “Yeah, but it’s not like you are going to date Alex O’Loughlin or George Clooney or…”.
To this I say, “Why not?”
Grant it, it’s entirely likely that I’m not fantasy guy’s type, but he’s just another single man working in Los Angeles. There isn’t a moat with a drawbridge (even in Malibu) that stops someone from introducing themselves and giving it the old college try. Now, I’m not blind to the fact that you are likely to have a heck of lot of competition for said fantasy guy, but in Los Angeles, there’s a significant amount of competition for any straight, single man with a job. Plus, what are the odds of me actually introducing myself to any man and asking him out? Yeah, those odds are hovering dangerously close to zero regardless of the level of SAG dues he pays.
“But where would you meet one of these fantasy guys?” How the hell should I know? I can’t meet any guys. Thus, technically my odds of meeting Clive Owen or Bob Jones are roughly the same.
I can hear your next thought, “But hot, famous actors are not going to be into faithful long-term relationships—they might hook up with you, but they’ll definitely cheat”.
To this I remind you that people keep telling me that most men cheat. So, if I’m going to be cheated on anyway, I’m not going to factor hot, successful men out of the equation merely by virtue of heightened probability. That’s practically discrimination, and that’s wrong. I’m an equal opportunity theoretical dater.
Fantasy guys—they’re not just for fantasies anymore.