on Red Flags: Things Are Going Very Well Right Now, and That is a Huge Red Flag For Me

While I’ve enjoyed the last few weeks we’ve been together, I’m feeling a bit uneasy about a few red flags.

Specifically, the fact that I have not seen any yet.

I’m sure this may come off as a slightly odd complaint, but I can assure you that this is very much problematic behavior according to some of my favorite writers. You have failed to recognize that I, an exclusively-online wannabe writer, need for you to display at least some sort of overly generalized fault or toxic behavior that I can then create viral content out of. That you have not done so signals that you don’t seem to care about my growth as a creator. You seem to only care about my growth as an individual, and I simply cannot stand for that.

This trend of behavior goes back to our first date. That night when we met at that bar and I ordered a Manhattan up. At no point did you judge me, try to correct me in the way that the drink should be served, or lecture me on the correct bourbon I should have them make it with. I even provided you with an ample opportunity to do so when I requested a specific brand of a widely agreed upon dogshit bourbon. And yet, nothing.

Instead, you simply replied, “Interesting choice,” and proceeded to order the same drink, only on the rocks. How could you not pick up on those signals? Though, in hindsight, perhaps ordering yours on the rocks was a passive-aggressive attempt at judgment despite your claiming that’s just how you always remembered drinking them.

The polite thing to do would have been to behave in the manner that my online friends have grown accustomed to in my writing, so that I could create a meme out of it or write a funny post. I’m at 184 followers now and they pine for new content. You have given me nothing to work with here.

Jesus, at the very least, you could’ve ordered an appletini or some shit.

Then, as if you hadn’t done enough already, when we were chatting later that evening and you mentioned playing volleyball in high school, I said I knew of a bar with sand courts in the summer. You didn’t even quiz me on my own athleticism. You just replied that you play intramural and that it might be fun to go to a game sometime. Here I was with an entire post about my lack of athletic prowess queued up and ready to go. That would’ve been at least, like, ten solid likes right there.

Then you go and compliment me for holding the door open for you as we walked out of the bar to get the Uber; I had a whole bit on toxic masculinity raring to go from that until you admired how I kept holding the door for this lovely couple that were entering the bar as we left. So I guess you’re just appreciative or something. Not very toxic behavior at all. I can’t work with that kind of material; it’s too bland.

I thought I could finally milk a few tweets and maybe an entire thread out of you when we ended up back at your place. I didn’t see a single piece of Live, Laugh, Love art on your wall. We queued up HBOMax and the last films you watched were Goodfellas and The Cable Guy. That was particularly gnarly and not at all girly. I mean, seriously, what the fuck? You’re perfect. A post about the perfect woman isn’t entertaining at all. I wasn’t going to let the fact that your bookshelf had a pretty diverse library or your mentioning an affinity of John Hughes films keep you from giving me the validation and attention from my followers that I so crave.

How could you not see that my asking you about Jordan Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life was an attempt to bait you into going off on some pseudo-intellectual rant? You just said it was powerful and moved on. What was that? Don’t you know how much comedic gold I could’ve mined from you just giving me a couple of sentences about how transphobic Peterson is? You just explained how profound that book is for society and then my countering that you should read some more white cis-male writers just made you laugh. Twitter and TikTok folks don’t eat that shit up. It seemed as though you were incapable of getting triggered. I need you to be woke so I can write about the absurdity of it all! I surely would’ve gotten a recurring stand-up set or some new followers from that.

As soon as you said that you play video games, I knew that it was time to go.

In closing, I cannot stress enough how important it is for me to have a partner who is going to be supportive of my career. Yes, I could date someone with goals and integrity, then try and come up with new material that actually addresses the real root of the problem rather than just relying on a rehash of the same joke, but who really even has time for that?

I really don’t know what else to say to you at this point. But if this relationship is going to work, I’m going to need you to give me some content based on broad, lazy, and overdone generalizations. A little toxicity never hurt anyone, ya know?

On our next date, I’m going to schedule various texts to myself from my work phone, which I have since saved as Allison Bartender. If you don’t freak out about that, we’re so done.