With all the buzz surrounding Valentine’s Day and everyone’s excitement about receiving their Perfect Match results, I just wanted to put this out there: last year, the girl who was supposed to be my “perfect match” wouldn’t let me anywhere near her feet.
While there was a lot of big talk about the cutting-edge formula behind this quiz, it must have completely fucked up, because not only did my prescribed sweetheart refrain from letting me count her toes with my tongue, she acted all surprised when I tried to steal one of her dirty socks from her gym bag.
I get it. I get it. We had “just met” and we were “sitting in the middle of Mac’s Cafe” but how was I supposed to know the quiz had paired me up with such a weirdo? If I had known my “ideal girl” was going to be so uptight, I wouldn’t have bought all those scented lotions I planned on massaging her calves and ankles with. Thanks for nothing, Perfect Match.
My friends claim this year’s quiz is even more comprehensive, but fool me twice, shame on me. Quite frankly, if you don’t have the decency to show me those little piglets, then why are you even looking for love on the internet?