The call came one night as I was driving back to the dorms after hot yoga. It was my roommates asking for a favor. Being the person that I am, I happily agreed. All they wanted was permission to use my phone number. I hung up the phone slightly confused, but I didn’t think much of such an odd request. My mistake.
Later that night, as my roommates and I were heading down to the cafeteria, I noticed a sign hung up in the dorm hall. It was a simple, clean white piece of paper titled “Boyfriend Application.” Curiosity piqued, I took a closer look. The application listed various specifications that may be found in a boyfriend. Requirements included but were not limited to:
- Over 5’9”
- Romantic
- Must dress well
- Funny
- Smart
- Good looking
- Gives me their sweatshirt
- Buys food
- Vapes
- Likes deep conversations
- Gives back scratches
- Willing to always be the bigger spoon
At the very bottom of the paper were tabs that could be torn away. The tabs were decorated in black ink with seven digits. MY SEVEN DIGITS. Immediately, my stomach dropped and my pulse quickened. I pointed to the sign and turned to my roommates. In return, I was answered with squeals and footsteps rushing down the stairs.
Each one of my roommates had been dating someone which made me the odd man out. I wasn’t itching to jump into a relationship, but I was beginning to grow annoyed with the endless complaints about boyfriends. Not to mention, I didn’t have the guts to tell the guy I was crushing on at the time that I liked him which only added to my desperation.
I respected that the two girls who had grown to be family were merely being helpful. They had been trying to set me up with guys since the end of the fall semester. No shenanigans performed then would prepare me for the moments that lay ahead.
The posters hadn’t even been up for an hour and I had over 12 guys texting me. I was overwhelmed with the response to the boyfriend application. None of us thought that something so simple as hanging up a flyer with contact information would create such a reaction. Turns out there is a lot of single guys out there who are always willing to be the big spoon.
Guys who were upset that this might be an act of bullying were checking in to make sure I was okay. Others were genuinely interested in finding a significant other and took the application very seriously. Of course, there will always be those who lack the necessary maturity.
Unfortunately, no epic love story was fabricated through this impromptu set up. I did, however, receive angry text messages from a girl who responded to the application pretending to be a guy. After hearing her boyfriend had responded to the application, she immediately took action. In summary, she felt personally attacked that some trashy girl would hang up such an obscene poster.
I took a moment to process all she had said. The poster wasn’t at all obscene; the poster was legitimate. If hanging up a boyfriend application was vulgar and trashy then what does that make Tinder or other online dating outlets?
Most may not realize this, but before cell phones and computers, the most common form of communication was paper and pencil. Which meant that “putting yourself out there” would include a personal ad in the local newspaper. In comparison, hanging up the boyfriend application was no different.
In the end, I learned two things: (1) if you really want to be efficient in finding your next love conquest, forget about swiping right and create your own boyfriend application and (2) creating your own boyfriend application doesn’t make you trashy, it makes you innovative.
Sometimes you just got to do what you got to do to get the job done.
