In my line of work I see a lot of men. A lot of men. That sounds misleading. I see a lot of images of men.
All day long my Facebook news feed is one half-naked pretty man after the next. I'm not complaining, but I have wondered where in the hell these images are walking around in real life. Because it's not in my neighborhood.
But, with this current trend of 'bad boy' men covered in tattoos and rocking full beards - I have good news ladies. They are real and they're all hanging out in one place. I know this for a fact because I had dinner with all of them on Tuesday night.
The reason for my outing was to watch my brother perform. He's been a stand up comic for years, and after taking some time off, he was finally hitting the stage again. Needless to say, I didn't want to miss this.
My brother is exceptionally funny, if in a rather brutal fashion. He has perfected the art of making you laugh out loud while shaking your head mouthing the words 'that's fucked up' to yourself as tears of joy begin to stream from your eyes. He's twisty and dark and sick and damn funny while doing it.
So, there I was, ready for a night of laughs and good times. He'd warned me that some of his friends would be joining us and I'd spent a week mentally prepping myself for this (being uncomfortably shy and knowing that I'll spend all night wondering if I seem like a total bitch by not talking or making eye contact with anyone does tend to stress me out a bit). When I arrived however, he informed me that the party had grown substantially. We now had dinner reservations for twenty.
He would have called me to let me know ahead of time...but he wanted me to come, so he didn't.
Turns out, sitting down at the table with all of his friends wasn't half bad. And when I say half bad, I mean I was basically in current romance writer heaven with a surplus of future book boyfriends to choose from. Tall, tatted and bearded men sat all around me. Sanford, Ladies. That's where it's at.
So, I sat there, just taking it all in, watching and listening to this group of guys who have apparently become my brother's surrogate family over the last few years. They're good guys. Maybe even the kind of guys we write about (you can only tell so much from one dinner).
There were moments of conversation when the rose colored dream vision I was enjoying began to get a bit murky, primarily when it came time to examine the menu and order food.
"What's a shit-take mushroom? Anyone?" Seriously.
But then the best looking one in the bunch scowled at the idea of bowling and all my faith in real-life book boyfriends was restored in an instant.
So there you have it - the previously believed to be mythical bearded, tatted book boyfriend is real. They do exist. And all conveniently located in one place.
Now...where are those pretty billionaires hanging out?