The Numbers Game

If you have to be in a relationship (and let’s be honest, everyone has to have someone to love who loves them back), please respect the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s a numbers game. That’s right. Attractiveness numbers.

Now, don’t go saying how petty and ephemeral and unimportant it is to factor attractiveness into long-term satisfaction in a romantic relationship. Your level of attractiveness affects your life experience. Your life experience is influenced by your partner’s life experience. By extension, your partner’s level of attractiveness affects your life experience in the long run–not to mention when you’re at the grocery store. (Apparently some people have to wait in lines?!)

Don’t believe me? Look at the large, surly, disheveled woman in aisle seven. How did she get that way? Let’s say she wasn’t very popular in high school. She is used to people not treating her well. She has certain [low] expectations in social situations. She walks in with preconceived notions about how others will treat her, and it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.

On the other hand, let’s hypothetically say that I’m a 9 (or a 9.5 if I’ve had at least 7 hours of sleep). When I go into a social situation, people* treat me well. I’m used to that. I meet people with a smile. I get free shit and discounts and special treatment ALL THE TIME. On 30 Rock, my favorite show, they called this phenomenon “living in the bubble.”

Bubble denizens and non-bubble folk aren’t treated the same way. If I ever:

  1. got charged for my extra shot of espresso at Starbucks
  2. stopped getting random “unadvertised specials” at the mall
  3. got charged cover at da club
  4. didn’t get free refills on beer

…I’d be pissed! But guess what, folks… I just keep this smile on my face, and easy livin’ just keeps on happening.

Now let’s just say I was with a homely 2. I guarantee that I wouldn’t get seated at a restaurant as quickly as if I was with another 9.5. Just sayin.

Out in the real world, you’ll see some awkward 6/3 scenarios, and occasionally a 7/10, but you won’t see a 9 slummin it with a 2. A 2 is gonna pop 9’s bubble. And we 9s love our bubble.

Sorry, uggos.

 *  Okay, by “people,” I mean men. 95% of women hate me. The other 5% don’t see me as a threat and absolutely fucking adore me. I have a pie chart to prove this–available upon request.