In this day and age, a girl is lonely.
I didn’t have many suitors prior to quarantine, but the option was ever-present. I could always open Tinder, match with someone semi-attractive, be satisfied with that level of validation and never respond to their pick-up line.
Admittedly, I’m the worst kind of person. I never felt guilty for leading on dozens of straight men in Madison. I wasn’t even interested in pursuing any of the functions Tinder is designed for. I was happy — scratch that — content being single.
I had friends with boyfriends to live vicariously through. I could aggressively third, fifth or seventh wheel while never having to go through the emotional pain that having a stupid significant other inevitably leads to.
The first few weeks of my isolation, I felt empowered. I learned to love myself and didn’t think about men. Then, my TikTok algorithm changed things.
What used to be idiotic, comedic clips was replaced with attractive men. Singing. Dancing. Playing instruments. Having mullets — questionable, I know, but we’re not here to judge. They were everywhere.
While it brought me joy to see these men — maybe some of them, boys, let’s be honest — it was also heart-wrenching. I mean, the only males I’ve talked to in quarantine are my dad, my cat and a grocery store cashier.
My hometown Tinder is pathetic, and my social skills are absolutely lacking. So, in an effort to restore a sense of toxic, hyper-masculinity into my life, I binged “Tiger King.”
Like any other human being with a Netflix account, I watched the series in constant awe and amusement. With each episode I wondered, how can it get odder than this? And miraculously, it did.
The show was a semi-disturbing roller coaster, but it did teach me a few things.
Besides the fact that we need to protect our endangered wildlife at all costs, “Tiger King” taught me how to get a lover from three very unique perspectives. Those of Doc Antle, Carole Baskin and Joe Exotic.
There’s no getting past the fact that Creepy Goatee Guy was a hottie in his day. The long, flowing hair, the weird obsession with exotic animals — yummy!
In the show, Doc McStuffins is in a polyamorous relationship with his employees. That is, a bunch of hot, young babes who were at his dispense, and in turn, he provided each woman a job and a whole house to live in. Sweet deal.
While working long hours in a revealing cheetah costume for your boss/lover isn’t necessarily MY dream, Doc made it work for several years. And I know I can, too.
First step, I must upstart a business, or at the very least, be overly passionate about something.
Second, I must find young, vulnerable men desperate for a job — no matter how wacky it is. Maybe I’ll start with recent University of Minnesota grads.
Third, become a bit of a cult leader. This one may be a little harder to accomplish, but I’m just a few more docuseries away from perfecting the craft.
Ms. Baskin went through three husbands in her time, the latter of the two being very wealthy. (Come teach a class at Grainger — that’s called a business plan!)
She met her second husband simply walking down the street after her suitor insisted she get into his car. Okay, aw! It’s too bad leftist media is always on the lookout for #strangerdanger, otherwise I might have caught a husband by now!
Essentially, Carole lucked out, as she didn’t know her soon-to-be-hubby was millionaire Don Lewis.
With modern day technology, I’ll have to put in a little google work to find local millionaires — but once I do, I’ll put on a cute little flower crown and dwell outside their residential sidewalks.
Of course, it is rumored that Carole fed ole Donny boy to her tigers — or at least he “disappeared” one fine and sunny morning.
My personality can easily drive a man to up and leave without a trace, but I don’t know if I’m quite capable of murder. Then again, that’s where life insurance money and a new rich husband come sweeping in.
Joe is a unique lover. He begins not with seduction, but rather with a killer stage presence. Coincidentally, we already have this in common.
Joe often convinced straight men to companion him — just as I plan to trick well-read, indie heartthrobs to fall for me.
The Tiger King himself often lured men in with a) exotic tigers b) a place to live and work and c) drugs. While I can offer none of those things, I can offer a) an array of cheetah print accessories b) a shared room located in the sophomore slums and c) walking-distance access to Regent Liquor.
I’ve also been thinking about bleaching my hair and cutting a mullet, so falling in fake love should be easy. Joe’s husbands were loyal, and he loved them deeply through all their faults.
Like Joe Exotic, I also have a large co-dependency problem, so this plan just might work.
As you can see, Doc Antle, Carole Baskin and Joe Exotic all had very different mechanisms to lure in lovers. Once this quarantine mess is over, I just might have to try one — or all — of these clever techniques.