Ugly Love

You ever see two ugly people walking on the street together holding hands and you look at them and you think good for you guys; you did it. Congrats at beating the overwhelming odds and finding that someone special. You look at these two ugly ducklings and give that nod of approval. Not only did these two uglies find love but they got the approval of me, one of the beautiful people. Now naturally after you pass these two ugly but in love people your kind thoughts turn negative. How is it that these people, or rather these ugly people were able to find love and you, a beautiful person, are still lonely and single? What the fuck?

But then you think, is that really what I want? I mean sure, those people look happy and for all intents and purposes they are, but is that really what life is about? Shouldn’t we be dating out of our comfort zone and try for the hotties upon hotties. Who wants to end up with an ugly? Is that the life for me? These questions linger in your head and then you start to get mad and even a tad bit jealous at those two ugly people you saw holding hands down in the village. I mean how did they even meet? They must be using the same methods as the rest of the human population. It’s got to be some combination of online and app dating. Could it be real life? Is that what I’m missing? Is that how all the undesirables meet – sans dating application? You then dismiss the thought because it’s obviously absurd – it had to be through some online apparatus.

So maybe, your mind begins to wander, it wasn’t the medium but the purpose. Could they have been so worn down by rejection that they just accepted their fate in life and decided to become one half of an ugly couple sandwich. Woo, what a terrible thing to have to think about. What an internal monologue that must be. Sure I’ll be in the ugly but that’s something and something is better than nothing. Then you think, what a sad thing to do. To settle so early and easily. To romantically die without a fight and never try to punch above your weight class. What a tragedy indeed.

Jesus, but who am I to judge on such shallow criteria goes the part of the brain you wish would pipe down more often. Should ugly people have to live a loveless life just because they don’t fit your arbitrary standards of beauty? Why that’s absurd you go, what was I even thinking? Maybe they complete each other emotionally and intellectually, isn’t physical beauty only one of the legs of the relationship chair. But then retorts the part of the brain you wish would speak less, isn’t physical beauty as important as an emotional and intellectual bond. That’s what brings the spark and magic and turns a magical friendship into a passionate relationship. The bonds of the mind and spirit are important but try explaining that to a flagging hard on or a rapidly drying pussy. So in the words of our genitals, let’s not downplay the importance of looks.

Maybe, just maybe, these uglies both find each other beautiful. And not that fake inner beauty nonsense but they truly have the hots for each other. It could happen, people are into weird things. You think about your own body. You certainly have some “eccentricities” and “peculiar parts” that some would find attractive and others would find downright unappealing. Hey to each their own, but then again don’t we have at least a baseline to judge beauty on. Could these people just have hit the baseline or found one appealing physical notion about each other and been like “that’s all I need I’m out”. Could they have been the person that only tries one flavor of ice cream, enjoys it, and then orders it on the spot without trying anything else? Is this the pair of people you just saw passing hand in hand in the village?

Now your mind takes a detour to the past trying to answer what could be a disheartening question. Have you ever in your dating career gotten the approval nod that you gave to the uglies? Has anyone ever given you, “one of the so called beautiful people”, that condescending good for you look when you were walking down the street with a love? The ego leaps into defensive mode saying no never, but then you think back on every walk you’ve ever made in public. You scour your memory banks like some 70’s reporter scanning microfiche at the library for any traces of the look. The results: inconclusive you’re positive it has definitely happened. In a city of 8 million people someone was bound to find you and your lover part of the select group of uglies and thought aww good for you guys, you did it. You overcame the odds.

The thought just sickens you. How could you be a willing accomplice in a vicious cycle that helps nobody at all. Love should be celebrated not ridiculed. The ugliness of the participants should be irrelevant. What a noble stance you think and you become instantly proud of yourself. And to think, you thought this wouldn’t be a productive walk. Never doubt yourself, now that’s a motto to live by. Until of course you see an even uglier couple holding hands as you hit the Chelsea neighborhood of the city (it’s been quite a walk) and think are you fucking kidding me? How did this one happen?