1. Rod Welder: Rod is 34 years old, with bulging muscles contouring his respectable farmer’s tan. He’s worked at FactoryCraft sealing pieces of metal together since he dropped out of high school in the mid-90s. A man of few words, he approaches your sundress-clad frame at dive bars offering a drink called a “grape pucker,” that may or may not contain mood-altering drugs. You date and or sleep with Rod for about three weeks until he asks you who Woody Allen is and you ditch him and his six-wheeled dodge pickup forever.
2. Schoolboy Scotty: Scotty is a junior at Tiny Town University where he majors in acting like he knows anything about the NBA. He greets you loudly at the back bar with a drawn out “Giiiiiiiirrrrrrl!!!!” as he adjusts the side tilt of his wide-brimmed Bulls hat. He’ll throw his arm around you like you’re his main sugar a little too forcefully, slurring out bursts like “you work for a newspaper?! Does anyone read it?” and “You’re so not wearing a bra!” Free yourself from his Budweiser vice grip and run, run quickly in any direction.
3. Professor Douchebag: You’re shocked when you find this snowflake of a man who teaches linguistics at Tiny U and can converse with you far beyond “want another jag bomb?” or “my place?” You spend weeks hanging out and flirting at arty bars and carnivals, reading and editing his tragic memoirs, allowing the sexual tension to come to a screaming crescendo until you can’t take it anymore. When you finally do make a move, Professor Douchebag makes it clear that since he is such a rare commodity, it’d be a shame to throw all that magic around on one girl since he’s capable of bagging three a night in this shit town. You unfollow him on twitter and avoid snooty coffee shops.
Andrew Pulltab: Andy is your manly, handsome-but-bashful co-worker who inexplicably blushes when you come in the door or ask him where the printer paper is. He grew up in town and offers to show you around all the local watering holes as an excuse to ogle your tits outside of the office. You begin a raucous fling that consists of endless paper gambling and Jameson nights out that end with him pawing at you skilllessly and desperately in the alley. You do this for a few months before his stench of alcoholism and Axe and dying dreams prompts you to seek out new options.
5. Co-op Cody: Cody is a smallish, quiet boy with cute dimples and a black buzz cut. He gives you shy glances as you purchase your weekly allotment of apricots and hummus, and you see him around at political protests and art gallery receptions. Cody wants a girlfriend. One he can pick sunflower seeds with and talk about the ever-changing chameleon that is Bob Dylan’s music. You strike out when he finds out you bought inorganic apples that he’s sure will make his ivory baby face look like an overcooked hamburger.