I don’t even really know how this works, but here goes!
- Name: Jeff Weaver
- Occupation: High school teacher
- From: Alexandria, VA
- Lives in: Arlington, VA
- Height: 5’9”
- Weight: I only jiggle a little when I brush my teeth
- Education: B.A. from Elon University
- Favorite Movie: E.T.
- Favorite Book: Facebook?
- Favorite Food: Semi-cold soft pretzel with no salt
- Favorite Show: Replays on the Jumbotron
I’m a high school English teacher with a love for movies, comics, and Steve Harvey’s Family Feud (totally a dream of mine to be on it). I love being sweaty on the metro, while standing uncomfortably close to strangers wearing similar outfits. My other hobbies include sweating while standing in line for bobblehead dolls to show off to no one in my apartment. I'm extremely patriotic, but I hate eagles and cowboys. I’m afraid of giants. I've discovered I'm really good at pushing down pumps to explode ketchup on myself. I love closing my eyes and hearing the squeaking of men’s shoes on parquet, and I'm a big fan of day drinking on pavement while sweating; sweating is a big part of my life.
What I Learned from Past Relationships:
I’m tired of feeling like an idiot for supporting my relationships. I am tired of showing up to so many events just to be let down. I’m tired of pouring money into this and getting nothing in return. It’s exhausting. It’s like they don’t even care about me and what I want. I almost feel cursed, like it’s somehow my fault that this isn’t working out. Maybe if I had sat in a different chair, or if I hadn’t changed out of my lucky tighty-whiteys, or I had shown up to one more event, the relationship would have meant something. But no, nothing ever changed. Every year, the anticipation grows and grows until the excitement is palpable, but every time, it is a premature elimination. It makes me wonder why I even come. It is just a limp feeling.
It was 29 years of my life, and I am glad to be done with it. It seemed like things were getting serious multiple times. In the early '90s, it was amazing. I got my first ring. But since, it’s just been emotionally draining. All my friends kept telling me that my relationship was going to FINALLY lead to something real, and every year, they are proven wrong. Even the experts kept ensuring me that it would happen, that this was my year, but I was constantly disappointed.
Also, one of their nicknames was kinda dicey and racist, so there’s that.
My Ideal Mate:
I want to be with a winner. I want someone who is going to take my support and use it to turn this relationship into something special. I want parties, parades, celebrations. I want this relationship to be the talk of the town and the topic of discussion, not the butt of any more jokes. I want to wear your clothes around town and feel proud, not like a puppy that just peed on the rug. I want to be able to cheer. I’m not getting any younger; I need a ring before I die. If you are not serious, please move on. No bandwagons or fairweathers please.
- Sleeveless mesh shirts
- Possible concussions
- Wooden sticks to hit balls with
- Metal-bottomed shoes
- Lots of extra-strength pads
- Big orange balls (little white balls also acceptable)
- Missing teeth appreciated
- Flightless aquatic Antarctican birds
- Jerry Jones
- Dan Snyder
- Claiming you live in DC, but you live in Maryland
Willing to relocate. Serious inquiries apply within.