My default dating setting has always been set to the wrong men. And bad boys come pre-packaged with a fast approaching expiration date. Like driving your car with the emergency brake permanently on. Putting myself out there always felt like I was a trapeze artist performing without a safety net. Dating bad boys ensured that I’d never again have to put myself out there. I could outsmart the game of love. But by dating bad boys I was only disqualifying myself from the game. Most of my friends would describe my type as “tall, dark, mysterious and very troubled.” If he looks like the type of guy who would have a problem getting through the TSA at the airport, you’ve hit the nail on the head.
I studied abroad in Florence during college. His name was Pete, he was mysterious, had a bad attitude and thought he was too cool for school. Naturally I was drawn to him. On the first day of the program, we started dating. Having heard about “my new major boyfriend” my bestie Jamie came to Italy to visit me. Jamie stood in front of the Duomo (the hang out spot for all the American students studying abroad). Looking for his friends, Jamie scanned the crowds of hundreds of students, before becoming splinter focused on one boy standing across the street. To our mutual friend, Jamie announced, “That’s Pete isn’t it? I’ve never seen a picture of him but I can just tell by the way he’s walking that this guy is the biggest d-bag. And knowing our girl as well as I do, I could spot her type from a mile away.”
“Bingo,“our mutual friend responded.