Thirty years ago my mother had a bag of groceries in one hand. Me in the other. Both started to slip. She saved the eggs.
In an instant the promising career of a heralded astrophysicist ended before it began. And in its place, a self-deprecating, socially-awkward--albeit devilishly handsome--creative-ish guy was born.
For a living, I come up with ideas to help companies make money while doing good in the world.
For fun, I eat greasy food, drink craft beer, play basketball, lift heavy objects short distances, travel, update my match profile, and procrastinate.
For you, I hold open doors and compliment your shoes. Unless they're ugly. In which case, I say nothing until we get into a fight and then blurt out, "Yeah, well your shoes are ugly."
I'm looking for a woman who (insert a bunch of cliche things about loving the outdoors, having a sense of humor, living each day to the fullest, here). But really, I'm looking for someone to make fun of me.