A Brooklyn woman who has recently been wrung through the NYC dating cycle just wrote a very convincing closing argument as to why no one should ever date a corporate lawyer. In addition to selling off his parting gift on Craigslist, she wrote a ten paragraph treatise that is one part poetry to five parts airing dirty laundry.
Never date a corporate lawyer. Here's how it goes. You match him on Tinder and give him a chance even though he ghosted you after one date. You never get an explanation for this beyond "I was looking for something specific," which sounds like another lawyer or some Woody Allenesque waif-bot, but most Brooklyn dudes want that, so fuck it. He has nice hair. He apologizes, claims to hate True Detective, and laughs at all your jokes.
He's kind. Not like other corporate lawyers, you tell your friends, who smile painfully. He wants to leave Wappen & Kladden! He has values! He's sensitive! You've never been happier, and he says he's never been happier, and for the first time, you know you're in love.
After that introduction, it is a tale as old as time: boy meets girl. Boy says he wants to be monogamous then suddenly realizes he is a man-child with a butt load of cash and no idea what he really wants. Girl stands off to the side for the whole thing, bewildered.
One night you watch a movie about the futility of monogamy, and he freaks out. He's scared of commitment. The guy who committed to 80-hour work weeks for nebulous reasons is scared of commitment. The guy who asked to meet your family after you said it would be okay to wait, because commitment can be scary, is now scared of commitment. You imagine your brother and dad, who only met one other boyfriend and hated him, discussing this the way people discuss natural disasters. "A damn shame. Now a whole different penis will have to enter her."
Damn, does every breakup have to include imagery of your family thinking about you having sex? More importantly, what movie was that? Netflix should have relationship blockers for that kind of content. Then the best part, the sale of her birthday gift.
He does not understand the human species. Who buys someone they're dumping a Vitamix? He wants to be the hero of this story: "I got this girl an epic birthday gift and then we broke up." He wants me to remember him fondly. I can't abide it. I had fleeting Hollywood fantasies about smashing it in the street, but that's for waif-bots. I'm not gonna ruin a perfectly good blender.
Instead she decided to sell the blender, and ruin a perfectly good corporate lawyer.
Read the whole saga, buy the Vitamix, or ask this woman out on a date here.