Where the (Undesirable) Boys Are

The ratio of men to women in Vail, Colorado is four to one. These seem like favorable odds. However, this town is not the flirtation fairy tale one would imagine. Allow me to break down the men of Vail:

15%: In Relationships
25%: Ski Bums who, after college, decided that skiing and bartending would be the best use of their philosophy degrees
30%: Ski Bums who, after high school, decided that skiing and bartending would be the best way
to continue smoking pot with their friends in the 7/11 parking lot.
20%: Old people
5%: My roommates/coworkers
4.99%: Educated, steady job, fairly normal
0.01%: Educated, steady job, fairly normal, sarcastic
100%: In love with Vail


I think you can see where the problem is. I'm surrounded by men 24/7, and maybe I'm being picky, but I'm just not interested in a guy when he suggests we go white water rafting for a date. Though this is more adventurous and unique than your typical dinner or movie, I feel that rafting would be quite literally moving too fast for a first date.
Even the task of simply meeting men is difficult. At Notre Dame, it is guaranteed that there will be at least a sprinkling of eligible bachelors any given night at any given bar and, by virtue of attending the same school, you are guaranteed to have at least one thing in common with all of them. I suppose living in Vail (which isn't exactly the "real world" but is a step outside the ND bubble) is a taste of what the social world outside of college will be like. It's not so easy. Public places contain more than just my peers. Since I don't climb mountains and am not in love with Vail, it's difficult to find common ground with anyone. However, I did manage to meet a guy the other night. I was at a Johnny Cash cover band concert (that's right--and it was awesome) when this 40-something Gary Busey look-alike tried to coerce me to dance. Since the ol' "I have a wooden leg, like Heather Mills, so I can't dance" line doesn't work anymore since Ms. Mills stunt stint on Dancing with the Stars, the only defense I had was a series of "umms" and uninterested looks. Gary Busey eventually went away and then this less crazy, decent looking guy commiserated with my misfortune of attracting lunatics. At first, we didn't really say much, but casually stood next to each other while watching fake Johnny Cash walk the line. Then after some small talk, we found common ground, or rather, rival ground. He graduated from Boston College in 2006. I did the usual rattling off of every Notre Dame football player and statistic I knew to make it look like I'm a football expert. Even though it only takes about a minute to say Zibikowski, Quinn, Clauson, Weiss, and rebuilding year, we managed to chat until fake June Carter left the stage. This guy seemed alright, and given my surroundings, he seemed great. I could even get past the fact that he wants to get the Vail Valley logo tattooed on his calf. I mean, how many well-educated, Catholic, decent-looking, finance majors are there out there? (I'm talking outside Notre Dame, which is the hub of such a gentleman). Fake Johnny Cash and his crew left for the train for Folsom Prison and I left for the car back to the intern house. I told BC guy I was leaving, and he gave me a simple "Ok, bye!" then disappeared. Never was there mention of getting my number. There wasn't even so much as a handshake. Too bad for him, as I was just desperate willing enough to give him my number. I may have found him on facebook the next day, but I didn't want to be a creeper. Plus, if he didn't have the guts or smarts to ask for my number, then I've severely overestimated him.
As much as I balk about the men of Notre Dame, it seems that those are the type I'm seeking outside of the dome. Maybe Notre Dame trains us for that. The Irish ladies set their standards to a type, the only type available for four years of their relationship formative years, and then are doomed to search outside the bubble post-graduation for the kind of guy they once deemed a tool. I'm beginning to understand the "ring by spring" phenomena--I'm not subscribing to it or supporting it, but I do see how it is preventative of real word shock. As great as the Notre Dame guy sounds, it seems that prospects are not looking good in the South Bend front. Caitlin is spending her summer in South Bend and, in response to my desire to return to the campus to find "not stupid boys", she reported this
"Everyone in this town is icky or practically married (or both usually). Where are all the eligible SB bachelors i was excited about?"
It's true. It seems that all the Notre Dame fellows who aren't hopelessly nerdy or accounting majors have been snagged up by ugly girls (this sounds cruel, but I swear that the ugliest girls get the guys. However, it is a mystery as to what came first--the ugly or the boy). What I am most perplexed about is this generational penchant for long-term relationships. At what point did all the attractive, intelligent, not crazy men decide that they all wanted long term girlfriends? They are really missing out on potential pimphood.
Despite all this "woe is me" single girl talk, I'm really not desperate. I was just looking for a distraction for the summer and a reason to play "Summer Lovin'" on my iPod. I'm still holding out hope for single girls under the dome for Fall 2008. Until then, I'll just continue to be surrounded by unavailable, undesirable guys.