I’m most definitely not an expert on relationships. In fact, I’m like, the opposite of an expert, as all evidence presented in these pages should prove. People have actually begged me not to comment on relationships for fear that I’m capable of causing more harm than good. And it’s true. The only real relationship I’ve had in the five years I’ve spent in New York City was the one I had with the man who delivered my Indian food. He came to my apartment almost every other day, gave me my food, and walked away, leaving only an aura of mystery, sensuality, and a chicken tikka masala dinner special with basmati rice and vegetable samosas. But here’s where it got really special, and where I gained the confidence I needed to really dominate this whole relationship thing: about a year into our takeout-fueled flirtations, Indian Delivery Guy started slipping a little extra something into my bag. And that little extra something was a free rice pudding. Now, if I was actually good at relationships, I would’ve vocalized my feelings better by kindly explaining that I’m more of an ice cream person and think rice pudding has the consistency of cold phlegm. But I appreciated the gesture. And it broke my heart when I moved away from that apartment, never to see Indian Delivery Guy again. For all he knows, I died, choking on a clump of his free rice pudding.

Alas, having been through the intensity of a New York relationship, I know now what I require from a lover and life partner, and have decided to list those requirements on the off chance that someone reading this book may fit the requirements or know someone who does.

TRAITS FOR LANDING MY HAND IN MARRIAGE OR AT LEAST GETTING ME TO EAT IN FRONT OF YOU

1. Can sing with the emotional spirit of a wounded dove and is willing to sing me to sleep every night.

2. Has skin that is soft like the hair of a freshly washed puppy or the underside of a very old toad.

3. Can build a tree house using only his bare hands, three screws, a shovel, and the hopes and dreams of a nation.

4. Can bake an entire three-tier cake, frost it, write an uplifting message on it, and then eat it, all in under an hour.

5. Has the ability when I’m angry to soothe me with only a series of whispers and clicks, like he’s calming a spooked horse.

6. Is willing to sing with me at karaoke, but must pretend to be a worse singer than I am, even if he can sing like a wounded dove, and also he must cry when I hit the high notes and pretend like I nail them every single time.