An old but valuable joke: A woman goes to the Husband Store on Fifth Avenue and, on the first floor, there are hundreds of hot guys to choose from. “This is great,” she says to the salesman, “I can pick any of these to be my husband?” He says yes, and the guys are all good looking. But she says, “These guys are great, but what else do you have?” “Follow me,” the salesman says.
On the second floor, the guys are all good looking AND rich. The woman is thrilled. “Wow, good looking and rich. Jackpot.” She inspects the men, likes them, but she wants to see the third floor. Now, they’re good looking, rich, AND funny. The woman says she’s pretty much there. “But is he good with kids?” she asks. The salesman brings her to the fourth floor, where the guys are also good with kids.
This keeps going. Good with pets. Highly educated. Nice to her mother. Won’t try to sleep with her hotter sister. Finally, she gets to the 12th floor, and she’s in the room full of guys with numerous superlative qualities. But she’s still not quite there yet. Has she really found her soulmate? She steps out of the elevator on the 13th floor, and it’s the roof. She walks to the edge. “There are no guys up here? What’s going on? Where is everyone?” She peers behind her and sees the elevator door closing, with the salesman disappearing behind it. There’s a gust of wind, and she falls off the top of the building; this isn’t real life, so she splats on the ground but picks herself up, unharmed. She goes to the door of the Husband Store, which is now dark, with a “Closed” sign on the door; she pounds on it, and the salesman opens it ajar to say, “Sorry, ma’am, but, as you can see, we’re closed.” “Ma’am?” the woman says, “I’m not that old, and also…” But the door is closed and she hears the lock slam shut.
(Another version of this joke has the 13th floor being a room full of cats.)
In the male version, a guy goes in the wife store and the first floor is full of hot chicks, the second is hot chicks who want to f**k the guy a lot, the third floor is hot chicks into the same stuff he is (reading, fitness, functional programming languages), and the fourth floor is chicks who are also nice. Once the guy gets to the fourth floor, the guy picks a woman, and he goes, as he’s walking out, “By the way, salesman, what’s on the fifth floor?” And the salesman goes, “I don’t know, no guy’s ever gone up to the fifth floor.”
Women tend to stay on the shelf too long. Guys only need a couple floors. Every hot chick has a dozen beta males eager to wife her up.
An old joke re-told by my buddy, who hasn’t yet chosen a pickup seduction handle, but who needs to, because he’s a fount of stories, wisdom, and laughs in emails and private group chats. I’ve been cajoling and nagging him to share his insights for years, and one hopes he’ll eventually do so. If you like this post, try the free book.