Hi there. I’m TODD BIRNHAM. My girlfriend Jen tells me I have to do, like, a verbal strip tease to show off my assets and wow you like Channing Tatum freestyling with a power drill on a work bench … whatever that means. Her words, not mine. I’m not sure about freestyling, but maybe she’s talking about the fact that I’m solid with a power tool—when it comes to male assets, I’ve got the handy thing in the bag. I buy and flip houses, and it’s the best job I’ve ever had. Even better because I get to work with Jen, who’s the best interior designer in the city … and don’t let her tell you otherwise, because she always sells herself short. Jen’s amazing, and if you want to know my best male asset, it’s this: I got her. She’s smart and gorgeous and witty and talented, and I was just lucky, that’s all.
But wait, she tells me I’m doing a crappy job selling myself. So now I guess I’m supposed to tell you what I look like. She says I resemble this guy:
But in reality, I look more like this:
OK, that got a laugh out of her. But … wait, wait. Also an eye roll. What’s she expect? I was so bad at selling myself to her that she thought I wasn’t even interested. I had to lick cupcake frosting off her fingers before she understood I was in love with her. Which, OK, I admit, is a pretty damn good way to show somebody your feelings. Maybe that’s one of my male assets?
She just rolled her eyes again. But now she’s licking her lips, and she has this dreamy look on her face—we need to hurry this along, folks…
Since I suck at telling you about myself, how about this? I’ll tell you three things I’m not and let you draw your own conclusions:
- Tall, dark and handsome. Jen just put her head in her hands. I think she’s giving up on me winning this thing. OK, she thinks I’m handsome. That’s all I really care about, so there you go.
- A homebody. I like to see the world. I traveled a lot with my family as a kid. We spent time in Africa because of my mom’s work, and after college I backpacked around and then lived in England for a while. Now traveling is even better because I get to do it with Jen. She’s such a workaholic that she needs me to drag her away sometimes. She was just glaring at me, but now she’s shrugging and nodding her head. She knows. She knows.
- A gym rat. I prefer to get my tan by mowing the yard and my workout by swinging hammers and climbing ladders. I’m usually wearing a toolbelt on my jeans. Jen’s smiling now … she thinks that’ll get you going. She just winked at me. Hell, maybe she’s right.
Am I done yet? Yes? No, Jen thinks I still need to freestyle with a power drill. What the heck is she talking about? Since I can’t figure it out I guess I’m probably not going to win this book boyfriend thing, but you know what? I’ve got her. No offense, but if you’re looking for a boyfriend this dude is taken. You can do something for me, though. Know where I can find a red velvet cupcake at 10:30 at night? Or maybe just a can of frosting? OK, that dreamy look’s back in her eyes. G’night, y’all. Birnham … out.