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I Suck At Dating In L.A. For The Same Reason That Finches on Each Galapagos Island Have Different Beaks

After three years of living in Los Angeles, it’s become obvious that all the genetic dispositions and traits I adapted to thrive in New York’s dating scene are completely useless when dating in Los Angeles. As an east coast sarcastic Jew, I was clearly bred with the ability to pass on my DNA in environments that only exist east of the Appalachian Mountains.

I’m not complaining about this, and it makes perfect sense, but there is really no difference between by ineptness at dating in Los Angeles and why finches on different Galapagos Islands have a wide assortment of beak shapes. Dating in New York versus Los Angeles is no different from how finches on the island where they need long and narrow beaks to get worms out of rocky crags are different from those that need stout and firm beaks to break open hard fruits.

It seems like there were a lot of opportunities for a dirty pun in that previous sentence, all of which were missed. The point is that if you’ve been genetically designed to succeed in New York’s dating scene then you can thrive there. You can be smart to the point of pretentiously douchy, you can speak in nothing but sarcasm, you can talk about books and ride the subway to a park or go for a walk or catch a show. Basically being a Jew is very helpful in New York’s dating scene. That’s your beak.

But if you asked a girl out in Los Angeles by seeing if she wants to ride the subway to a city park and talk about books? You’d probably have a Twitter post written about how creepy you are before she’s hung up the phone on you. And books? I have gone on at least three dates with girls who have said, flat out, “I don’t read.” How do you not read? Who doesn’t read? I’m shocked by this. Is this a real thing? Do you look at signs and just refuse to accept them? “Sorry officer, maybe there was a stop sign there, maybe not. I don’t read.”

That actually brings up the question as to whether or not you can get out of tickets by saying that you can’t read.

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The point, though, is that skills that make you attractive in one place are useless in others. For example, the whole short Jew intellectual thing thrives in New York and fails in L.A., but what about the tall, stupid, muscular guys who favor diamond-encrusted Melrose Boulevard button-down shirts with images of dragons fighting leopards on the back? Sure they do great here, but where’s the sympathy for these fellas when they stroll across 72nd Street and Amsterdam?

It doesn’t have to be L.A. and New York either. Consider other nations. Chinese and Japanese people are weird as all hell, but they have bred the largest – and most insular – populations in the world. Maybe there is a Galapagos finch with a beak that likes to bathe in dead fish blood, as most Japanese people enjoy doing. Yet when they come to Mississippi, all of a sudden they have trouble picking up the cute Southern Belle sitting on her porch (I imagine that all women in the South spend their days sitting on porches). There are also the unique cases of species that can thrive on other islands without competitions, like how rabbits came to Australia and decimated the landscape without opposition. This is like when anyone with an English accent comes to America and can bang (sorry, ehem, shag) anything that moves.

If there is any case for evolution and debunking intelligent design, then it’s not what Darwin discovered on the Galapagos. It’s how those same theories apply when I try and be sarcastic to a girl in Los Angeles. If there was any sort of intelligent design, then I’m sure I would have some of it, and I could move across the country and still get laid. But as it is now, God has left me to my own devices. And my own Jewy beak.

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