If you’re wondering just what kind of tramp I am, being a married woman with a blog title like that, then this is exactly why you need to understand my boyfriend rules.
Much like an immature teen shouting “That’s your boyfriend!” to her sister when she sees an octogenarian in a Speedo on the street, I’ve never really grown up. (I would still shout this to my sister should said eightysomething wearing a banana hammock cross our paths.) I’ve sort of reversed this as I’ve grown up, though: I’m more likely to shout “That’s my boyfriend!” when someone hunky passes by. Yes, I’m married, and yes, my husband’s pretty patient. Because I do have a list of men I refer to as my boyfriends, including:
Essentially, my boyfriend choices come down to this: I have precious little free time on any given day. So if I’m going to give up, say, an hour to a man, he has to be really worth it.
Here are the rest of the rules:
Jason is remarkably tolerant of the men in my life. In fact, while watching an episode of Breaking Bad, he actually said, “Look out! I think your boyfriend is about to shoot your boyfriend!” It is not unusual for him to ask how my day was only to get the response, “Not bad. I spent some quality time with my boyfriend on my lunch break.” (I’m currently reading Clive Barker’s Everville.) I thought Jason had my whole system straight in his head, until this conversation last week:
Jason: Hey, I think your boyfriend is in this movie.
Me: No, he’s not. (I didn’t know if he meant Johnson, Banks, Bernthal, Grieco, or even a cameo from my very first boyfriend, Nick Rhodes, but I did know none of the above was in the movie in question.)
Jason: Sure he is. I just saw Michael Fitchman’s name in the credits.
I suppose I should explain. The first time I ever saw this actor was in The Perfect Storm, in which he played a character named Sully. I have a horrible time remembering his name (so much so that when I just Googled “Who played Sully in The Perfect Storm,” I found out his name is actually William Fichtner, and I’d just messed it up again when typing up Jason’s dialogue for this blog post). He has an easily recognizable face, but an easily forgettable name. So whenever I see him onscreen, I shout, “Sully!”
I don’t know why Jason thinks this makes him my boyfriend. Yes, he’s a good actor, and yes, he’s fairly attractive. I don’t know if he’s got any bad boy in him, though as I’m typing this, Sully was a bit of a bad boy in Perfect Storm. He’s age appropriate, it’s doubtful I’d ever meet him for coffee, and I see nothing online in which he says mean things about Dwayne Johnson. In all honesty, the only thing that disqualifies Michael William Fitchburgh from boyfriend status is that I can’t for the life of me remember his name from one moment to the next.
But Sully . . . I can remember Sully.
You know what? Maybe Jason does get the whole boyfriend thing. Because clearly, Sully’s my boyfriend.
Much like an immature teen shouting “That’s your boyfriend!” to her sister when she sees an octogenarian in a Speedo on the street, I’ve never really grown up. (I would still shout this to my sister should said eightysomething wearing a banana hammock cross our paths.) I’ve sort of reversed this as I’ve grown up, though: I’m more likely to shout “That’s my boyfriend!” when someone hunky passes by. Yes, I’m married, and yes, my husband’s pretty patient. Because I do have a list of men I refer to as my boyfriends, including:
- Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran
- Actor Jon Bernthal
- Author Clive Barker
- Walter White on Breaking Bad (but not, incidentally, actor Bryan Cranston)
- Actor Jonathan Banks (whether as Breaking Bad’s Mike Ehrmantraut or giving an interview as himself)
- Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson
- Actor Richard Grieco
- Survivor winner Richard Hatch
Essentially, my boyfriend choices come down to this: I have precious little free time on any given day. So if I’m going to give up, say, an hour to a man, he has to be really worth it.
Here are the rest of the rules:
- To earn boyfriend status, a man must be talented, entertaining, and most importantly, be engaging enough to keep me from looking at my phone for at least thirty minutes.
- Potential boyfriends must have either played a role in which he was a dark, brooding, bad-boy-with-noble-intentions, been a person like this, written about characters like this, or played keyboards for Duran Duran.
- My boyfriends must be men I’m highly unlikely to run into in person on a daily basis, because seriously, that would be mortifying.
- If I do get the chance to meet one of my boyfriends, he has to at least have the decency to not question my mortification and make me explain how he's my boyfriend.
- There must never be an unfavorable news article about my boyfriend acting like a jerk, specifically if he’s acting like a jerk toward one of my other boyfriends like Dwayne Johnson, or he’ll be immediately removed of his status (see: Diesel, Vin).
- Age is unimportant, though said boyfriend should be old enough to not make me feel like a creepy perv when I spend quality time with him.
- My boyfriend's sexual preference is also unimportant. Ours is a higher love.
Jason is remarkably tolerant of the men in my life. In fact, while watching an episode of Breaking Bad, he actually said, “Look out! I think your boyfriend is about to shoot your boyfriend!” It is not unusual for him to ask how my day was only to get the response, “Not bad. I spent some quality time with my boyfriend on my lunch break.” (I’m currently reading Clive Barker’s Everville.) I thought Jason had my whole system straight in his head, until this conversation last week:
Jason: Hey, I think your boyfriend is in this movie.
Me: No, he’s not. (I didn’t know if he meant Johnson, Banks, Bernthal, Grieco, or even a cameo from my very first boyfriend, Nick Rhodes, but I did know none of the above was in the movie in question.)
Jason: Sure he is. I just saw Michael Fitchman’s name in the credits.
I suppose I should explain. The first time I ever saw this actor was in The Perfect Storm, in which he played a character named Sully. I have a horrible time remembering his name (so much so that when I just Googled “Who played Sully in The Perfect Storm,” I found out his name is actually William Fichtner, and I’d just messed it up again when typing up Jason’s dialogue for this blog post). He has an easily recognizable face, but an easily forgettable name. So whenever I see him onscreen, I shout, “Sully!”
I don’t know why Jason thinks this makes him my boyfriend. Yes, he’s a good actor, and yes, he’s fairly attractive. I don’t know if he’s got any bad boy in him, though as I’m typing this, Sully was a bit of a bad boy in Perfect Storm. He’s age appropriate, it’s doubtful I’d ever meet him for coffee, and I see nothing online in which he says mean things about Dwayne Johnson. In all honesty, the only thing that disqualifies Michael William Fitchburgh from boyfriend status is that I can’t for the life of me remember his name from one moment to the next.
But Sully . . . I can remember Sully.
You know what? Maybe Jason does get the whole boyfriend thing. Because clearly, Sully’s my boyfriend.
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