The New Yorker is currently featuring a selection of four short quips from humor writer Paul Simms.  The fictional love affairs, lasting anywhere from 17 seconds to a life long 45 minutes, detail the relatable nature to which we quickly decide whom to fall in love with.  Subtle crushes evolve, twist and turn, til the love evaporates.

A few of my favorite parts…

Just look at you, walking into this dreary bar and lighting the place up like the noonday sun at midnight, twirling a lock of your long auburn hair pensively as you search the room—for what?

For a soul mate, perhaps?

Perhaps indeed!  While sometimes his crushes are swayed by bad manners, others by gender confusion.

Caught you! Here I am!

And there you are. I see now that you’re a dude. My mistake. It was the ponytail that threw me off.

His love and admiration turns to annoyance.  Perhaps he should drink better coffee?

You’ve been at the register without saying anything for, like, fifteen seconds now, still scanning the menu board with those almond-shaped eyes that would make Nefertiti herself weep with envy.

Seriously, you’ve been to a Starbucks before, right? I mean, it seems like there are a lot of choices, but most people find a drink they like and stick with it. And order it quickly.

A funny read for an otherwise depressing Thursday.  Read Four Short Crushes.