Charming, but single

Dear Men, Thank you for your interest in dating me. I am truly humbled by your decision to wink at me for free and/or e-mail me to comment on the size of my lips in my picture. I DO have Nice Lips, thanks for noticing! I see that you are from a very small town. I do not really know where that is, nor have I been there by choice, I am sure. Feel free to continue pursuing me; however, let it be known that I am probably not going to drive to Podunkville to meet you at some double wide trailer that’s been converted to a bar so that we can listen to Skynard on the jukebox and drink Budweiser. Read my profile. Does it say anything about Budweiser? If we date for several months and I like you, I may make a trip out to the homestead as part of the give and take of a relationship. But if you’re just casually seeing me in hopes of interacting with my Nice Lips, you will come to the city. That’s where my Nice Lips like to go out. But really, I’m getting ahead of myself. Because there are some major wrinkles in your profile that need to be ironed out before we can continue. Why are you wearing Denim Overalls in that picture? Look, I understand that not everyone works in an office. I live here too and I get that in some places, there are more oysters than offices. And I’m ok with you not being a briefcase-toting office inhabitant as long as you are a hardworker. That being said, why are you wearing Denim Overalls in that picture? Don’t send me a picture of you working, hunting, fishing, hanging out or generally being in Denim Overalls. Denim Overalls do not make me lose my breath. Put on jeans and polo and take a picture. It ain’t rocket science. Also, is that Robert E. Lee standing next to you? I thought he was dead! No? That’s your buddy dressed as Robert E. Lee? Oh, well since you explained that to me … NO. Civil War Reenactors are WORSE than Men in Denim Overalls (when there is no overlap). I’m almost glad that you have a picture with you and Faux-bert E. Lee on your dating profile, because I won’t accidentally go out with you now and have to text my girlfriends from the bathroom that “My Date reenacts Civil War Battles.” Come on, dude, do you think I’m going to explain to my girlfriends, “Oh, [My Boyfriend] can’t make it because they’re getting ready to re-enact the War of Northern Aggression and he’s in charge of making costumes?” while we sip cocktails? Hell no. I can’t even believe I just wrote “the War of Northern Aggression” out. I can almost get over the plethora of trucks and four wheelers in your dating profile. I don’t really like the guns. Or the dead animals. But when you are in your picture in Denim Overalls standing next to some dude dressed as Robert E. Lee, I draw the line. I like Southern Men. I really do. And if one of you would show up in seersucker on your profile, I’d swoon and e-mail your picture around to my girlfriends and write three drafts of the e-mail I was going to send you. Because I love me some Southern Gentlemen. But there are moments in my dating life when I start to wonder if there are any datable men here. When the Civil War Reenactors and the Confederate Band of Brothers start to wink at me? One of those times. Cheers, Charming