According to my iPhone weather forecast, it’s going to be 57 degrees in New York on Saturday. 57 degrees in January. In other words, it is absolutely too warm for a boyfriend.
Usually, January, of all months, is anathema to the unattached. It’s the month when previously social friends retreat, exhausted from the holiday circuit, into their homes to eat Thai Food under the comforter with their significant others. It’s the month of snowstorms, which banish everyone across the Eastern seaboard to their homes — the difference is that couples get banished together, and single people have only tubs of hummus and their computers for company. The cold, the grey, the unending monotony of winter are what, more than Valentine’s Day (though that’s approaching), more than the lack of New Year’s Eve kiss (though that sucked), have single people yearning for someone to idle the days away with.
But it’s practically tropical this month! Warm enough for after-work drinks, for after-drink strolls, warm enough for your non-puffy, non-figure-obfuscating coat. It’s definitely temperate enough for flirtation, mild enough for a fling, balmy enough for a girl to look around and see her options.
Who wants to stay inside when it’s 57 degrees?
Time to happily stuff winter boyfriends, those least-touted victims of global warming, back into the storage containers under your bed, and keep them safe for next year. Who needs monogamy now? After all, it’s practically Spring…