500 Characters | Jennifer Weitman

Please swipe left it you’ve ever told a woman she’s pretty just to get her into bed or that she smells nice and she is lovely and that you had a really nice time, but you have a girlfriend.
Please swipe left if you’ve ever honked at a woman while she was jogging down the street or hung out of a car window and asked her where you could get more of “that ass.”
Please swipe left if you’ve ever told a woman walking past you to smile.
Please swipe left if you’ve ever ignored a woman’s phone calls or texts because something or someone better came along or you were too afraid to tell her you just weren’t that into her.
Please swipe left if opening a door for a woman is not your thing or you walk on the inside of the sidewalk (yeah, some of us notice).
Please swipe left if you let a woman pay on the first date or you reach for the check, look it over, and ask “wanna split it”?
Please keep going if you’re 35 and have a part-time job because you’re still trying to “figure it out” or because your band is about to take off or because you’re working on your next art show, which starts next month at the coffee shop down the street from your 300 square foot studio apartment that your parents pay for.
Please keep going if any of your furniture is made out of milk crates or cinder blocks or if you sleep in the same twin bed you’ve had since college.
And speaking of college, please keep going if you think a year at Devry or The Art Institute of anywhere counts as college-educated or if the last book you read was The Great Gatsby in 10th grade English or when you answer the phone you say “this is him.”
Please keep going if the only appliance you know how to operate is a microwave or if you’re on a first name basis with the Dominos guy.
Please keep going if you still order jaeger bombs instead of bourbon.
Please keep going if ambition and a masters degree intimidate you.
Please keep going if, after six months of dating, you still tell people you’re “just hanging out.”
Please start running if buying a Christmas present for a girlfriend is a burden.
Please start running if you’ve ever told a girlfriend not to cut her hair too short, that with her tattoos, people will think she’s a dyke.
Please start running if you’ve ever asked a girlfriend if she really needs that second slice of pie.
Please start running if you’ve ever told a girlfriend that you won’t let her get fat, that after the baby is born, you’d “watch it” so she could hit the gym.
Please start running if you’ve ever kissed another woman at a girlfriend’s birthday party.
Please start running if you’ve ever spit on a girlfriend while you were inside of her, looked down and said: “babe, you need to wax soon.”
Don’t look back if you have a ton of baggage you’re not willing to unpack.
Don’t look back if you’ve ever thrown a chair across a room or punched a hole through a wall or kicked the cat because she asked you to talk about your feelings.
Don’t look back if you’ve ever asked a woman to marry you, but then made her cry when you told her you didn’t want to wear a wedding ring—that you just didn’t see the point.
Don’t look back if you’ve ever called off said wedding two weeks before the special day and then six months later texted her just to say that you’ve met “the one.”
Don’t look back if you’ve ever told a woman you loved her, that you couldn’t wait to start a family with her, and then two years later change your mind because you were scared.
Now, if none of that applies to you, congratulations—you’ve earned the privilege and the right.
Jennifer Weitman’s work has appeared in Fragments, Airplane Reading, and ÜBERGANG Magazine.

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