
I need to start off this post by letting you know that I do NOT think that all male models are stupid, intellectually deficient, or are null and void of current events knowledge. I will however let you know that the current guy I’m dating, let’s call him Brendan, is one of the most visually stunning men I have ever seen in the flesh. But the man has nothing between his ears.
Brendan moved to NYC after he was scouted by a big modeling agency here, and he just booked his first print campaign. And the man is so jacked/ripped, that on our first night together, I could not stop staring at him. Granted I don’t consider myself to be a superficial gal, and have prided myself on the fact that I’ve always gone for smart guys. But they’re not always so great either, and its not like guys don’t go for girls based on their looks alone. (Trust me, I’ve heard numerous conversations in the office from the boys’ about their latest conquests and tips on how they cheat on their girlfriends/wives. Real classy info.)
Back to Brendan.
After the drama with my ex, I just wanted to forget about everything. So I did. My girlfriends and I went out to Crobar, and went crazy. Simply put: lots of house music, Patron, and Grey Goose make Zoe C a very happy girl. And then, when I was getting my umpteenth drink of the night, I felt this cold beverage being spilled all over my skimpy top. As I turned around, to start a raucous rumble, I found myself face to face with Brendan, half-white and half-Chinese, and I seriously couldn’t stop breathing. HOT!
He apologized immediately followed by a slew of lines that every girl wants to hear, that I was beautiful, different and unique. Blah, blah, blah. Even if he was lying, I loved hearing every syllable, like most girls do. I have no idea how we managed to have a conversation, as house music was blaring in our ears, but we did. He insisted on taking a cab with me to my ghetto apartment, and we’ve been hanging out ever since.
So what’s the problem?
Okay, the sex is fantastic — probably the best I’ve ever had. When the lights are off, everything is perfect. He rocks my world. But when he opens his mouth and words out, I cringe. Literally. Brendan has absolutely nothing of importance to speak about besides his gym regimen, which brand of protein bar he will be eating that day, and how his modeling agent is a scary-looking cougar who is after his body. (That last part is slightly amusing, though, and probably true.) I soon found myself thinking, “Am I like all those guys in my office who go for models that look hot but have no brains?” Sadly, yes. Am I no worse then my money grubbing co-workers who use the term “models and bottles” on a regular basis?
Sigh.
I made a mistake. Okay, several. I don’t know what to do with Brendan. I mean, I avoid any type of conversation with him as that just turns me off … maybe this should be my New Year’s Resolution? Never to date a male model again. Or, at least, one with nothing to say.
Oh, and FYI, I didn’t sleep with my ex. I just took a long look at him, left a $20 for my margarita, (La Bottega is way overpriced) and bounced out. He is so 2009.











![Designer McQueen Dead From Apparent Suicide [Photos]](http://cache.static.tsavo.com/wordpress/uploads/2010/02/20040603_tkf_n44_003-sm.jpg)















Comments
RT
January 4th, 2010 - 9:45:54 PM
He's so 2009. I love it. Thanks.
1