How To Date Lumbersexuals

Well, this is a new type of rugged dude, eh? His face resembles the turf in Green Bay after a muddy October game—patches of scraggly fuzz. His closet contains three plaid flannel shirts, each with cigarette burns and missing buttons. He probably has stretched-out knit caps, too-tight jeans, and boots with laces dangling. You like?

The main problem I have here is false advertising. I would bet few of these grizzly bears could actually swing an ax. They’re most likely into listening to acoustic guitar on a cafe patio while sipping lattes and vaping.

I suppose I could understand the attraction to a kindler, gentler lumberjack. Don’t ya just want to at the very least comb some conditioner through that chin turf? Ugh! All right. Perhaps it tickles your love kitten when he’s face-muff-to-muff. Fine.

First things first. Where does one find Mr. Jack? No, not in the forest. Aside from the aforementioned cafes, I’d expect them to congregate in dive bars. Sure, you might catch a stray in a wine bar, but something is off about an ape-man carrying stemware. If you can find a good dive bar (send me the address, please), go there and hang around the pool tables. I’m sure the Muppet-looking fellow will be easy to spot.

I must add a disclaimer here because I recently watched an episode of Transparent (Amazon series), which featured a bearded fellow who had—get this—a vagina. Now, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but let’s just say there’s a place most of us would not expect to find a vagina. Naturally, my sick mind won’t allow me to perish the thought. No. Next, I begin to imagine what it would be like to be down on a muffin while staring up at a bearded chin. Not my cup of tea. Might be yours though.

Chances are, Mr. Jack is actually Jack, not Jill. He probably comes with the desired appendage. Let’s just hope he’s a bit more attentive around trimming the hedges. Few ladies carry leaf blowers, although I’ve seen some bags that could fit one. Mr. Jack insists on being unique, and proving to the world he doesn’t care. You can reward his behavior by approaching him with a unique beverage, such as bourbon with muddled fruit. Hand it to him, challenge him to a game of 8-Ball, and you’ll be well on your way to peeling the flannel from him.

Now, just because you are dating an almost-hipster doesn’t mean you need to dress the part. Yet, if you want to net his heart, purple hair dye, a few tattoos, nose and eyebrow piercings, and low-riding skinny jeans will have him raising a caterpillar eyebrow. Take it another step by going braless under a trendy tank, while wearing one of his flannels unbuttoned over the top. Hubba, hubba.

What sort of activities should you consider to keep him chopping at your bits? I suggest camping, concerts in the desert, craft beer tastings, and clothes shopping at second-hand shops. Resist any activity that requires him to eat something with gravy on it. Also, flannel doesn’t breathe well, so tanning isn’t optimal.

Enjoy your lumbersexual, while he’s trendy—another month or so.

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Author of humorous essays about relationships and lifestyles.

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