If you happen to be perusing a dating site and see pictures of me cliff-diving in the Alps or reading a book in a park, know that when you express digital interest in me — you will never meet me in human form but instead be dating one of 482 copies of my headshots.
Let me explain — I am a modern woman who has a full-time job, owns a car and a condo, works out on the regular, doesn’t have to answer to anybody, and also over-purchased black and white copies of my theater headshots when I was 22. At the time I was naïve and thought I’d immediately land a cool gig on the suburban-shot revamp of Friends, but there were no movie studios in my suburban town — only two Pathmark’s and five Wendy’s.
You may be thinking, People can’t date headshots. Well then, if you believe that, it’s obvious you’re not open-minded enough to explore a relationship with one of my beautiful headshots that’s been sitting in my parents’ attic in a box for the past three years. Modern love doesn’t look like the old-timey “two humans holding hands in a park”; modern love is anything you want it to be, and for me it’s 482 human beings falling head over heels for my old theater headshots.
Dating these days can sometimes be unconventional, and hey — I was young and naïve and purchased 1,000 headshots because they were on a nice card stock and didn’t cost that much. I really don’t want these pieces of my soul to go to waste, so I figured the most meaningful thing I could do was to put them out there in the dating world.
My headshots love hiking, going to the movies, and a fine wine paired with a nice cheese. I promise no one will even blink an eye if you’re sitting on a bench swing with a beautiful black and white 8 × 10 glossy photo of me. I once saw a guy pushing a three-foot sub in a baby stroller and society totally accepted it, so don’t worry if this won’t be accepted — I promise you it will.
Dating one of my headshots also comes with a couple choice perks: it can be autographed — I was once on an episode of Forensic Files, or, if you’re more of a purist, I’ll leave it as is and include some fun paper clothes so you can dress it up for any occasion. I’ll even throw in a free pair of gloves so you can avoid paper cuts.
So, when you’re flipping through dating profiles, know that I’m just a girl, staring at a boy (or girl or toaster oven — I’m very progressive) and begging it to date one of my headshots. And who knows — maybe one day all of my leftover headshots will be happily married and living in some charming cottage, happily ever after.
A girl with 482 headshots can dream, right?