Ah, Valentine’s Day. For many singles, it’s time for well-meaning loved ones to pester singles about dating. Time to suppress aching feelings when walking past Tiffany’s. Time to slurp pink punch and stumble home alone.
As a rather happily single New Yorker, those things don’t worry me. You see, I’ve become pickier about men. Surrounded by liberals here in the home of hipster Brooklyn and Occupy Wall Street, as a conservative with years of dating lefties, I’m unabashedly declaring my freedom.
“You unromantic cur, how dare you discriminate against someone for their political beliefs?” collectivist America shouts. “You’re shutting yourself off to the magical, unknowable algorithmic elixir of love! Good riddance!”