The Fighting 44s

Whassuuuuuuuuuuuuup.

Nothin’, man. Nothin’.

Woah. I am sensing some serious negative vibes here! What’s goin’ on?

Some days, I just don’t know.

What are you talking about, you “just don’t know”?

Why I bother, man. Why I bother.

Your more-depressed-than-usual tone is causing me some serious concern here! Bother to what?

Girls, man. Girls.

Ahhhhhhhhhh.

You understand?

I feel your pain, brutha.

I ainít never gonna hook up, man. There’s no one out there. I like someone, she won’t acknowledge my existence. Someone likes me, I got absolutely no interest.

You’re being a bit melodramatic there. That’s something of an overexaggeration of your predicament.

You gotta walk where I walk, man. That mile in my shoes, it’s a lonely mile. There’s no one for me.

Well all right. Obviously you’re not gonna believe me when I tell you that some fine, fine girl is out there waiting for you to take her in your arms and carry her away. True as it is, I can see that you’re too far gone for mere emotional encouragement.

You see correctly.

Then it’s time to demonstrate my incredible intellectual prowess.

Oh God, no.

Oh God, yes.

I’m depressed. I am not yet suicidal.

Silence. Let us begin. Okay, what’s the world population? Approximately, of course.

Uh, six billion, I think.

Six billion. That’s a lot of people. Now how many of these six billion people, would you say, are female?

Probably about fifty percent. Three billion.

I actually read somewhere that it’s like fifty-one or two percent. But that’s cool. We’re being conservative. Fifty percent. Three billion females in the world. Now, how many of them do you think are in the dateable age range? Let’s say, plus/minus five years.

I have no idea.

Well, let’s think about this for a second. Let’s say that the average person lives eighty years. Let’s split this eighty-year life up into chunks of ten. Now, we’ve got a dateable age range of ten years, so if there were an equal number of people in every chunk, then we would have a one-in-eight chance of meeting someone in the dateable range.

Makes sense.

Of course it does. We also know that the average lifespan of any given person in the world is less than eighty, and that there are not an equal number of folks in every age chunk. There’s a higher proportion in ours, for example, than there is in the over-seventy category, wouldn’t you agree?

It would seem so.

We can therefore conclude that the chances of meeting someone in the dateable range is actually greater than one-in-eight. But because this is a ballpark estimate, and we want to stay conservative, let’s work with one-in-ten. So ten percent of the three billion females in the world are within plus/minus five years of our age. That’s three hundred million ladies.

That’s a lot of ladies.

I ain’t done yet. Of all the girls you’ve ever seen, what percentage, would you say, have you found physically attractive?

I don’t know, ten percent? Twenty?

You’re a good man. Let’s be safe and say one percent. One percent of all these dateable females is just crazy hot.

So there are about three million females on this earth who we would find physically attractive.

That’s what I’m sayin’. Now get this. This is where the genius lies. You are not ugly.

That is genius.

Hold on. I think it’s fair to say there exist a number of females in this world who would be attracted to you either physically, intellectually, emotionally, or spiritually.

That’s fair.

Now of the three million hot females we were discussing, let’s say that 0.01% find you attractive in some way.

If I’m not mistaken, the situation you’re describing is one of mutual attraction.

Eggzactly! So 0.01% of three million is …

… three hundred.

Three hundred! Think about that! There are three hundred hot, hot ladies in this world who would love nothing less than to go out with you!

Guy. That’s amazing.

It’s miraculous! It is undeniable proof that we live in a loving, benevolent universe! And even if we’re way off in our estimates on the dateable age range, I can tell you right now that more than one out of every hundred girls is hot, and more than one out of every ten thousand girls will find even you attractive! This figure of three hundred is an absolute, bare minimum, you dig?

I dig.

And lemme tell you somethin’ else. This self-pity action you were so engrossed in, that’s for chumps, man. All that lonely shoes garbage, forget about it. You’re better than that.

I like the cut of your jib, brutha.

As do I. As do I.

This entry was posted on Sunday, August 22nd, 2004 at 6:54 pm and is filed under Features. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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