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Wanted:One Tall Ginger with a Trust Fund

Dating in 2025 feels like I’m stuck in a rigged claw machine: I keep grabbing but end up with limp plushies when I specifically asked for a six-foot-three ginger with blue eyes and a trust fund.


I don’t think I’m asking for much. I’m not demanding a unicorn that sings Beyoncé ballads while making brunch. I just want a towering ginger sugar prince who can look at me with trust-fund baby blues while signing the AmEx bill without sweating. Apparently, that’s rarer than a sober twink at happy hour.


The Non-Negotiable:


  • Height: 6’3”. Not “six-one if I stand on my ego.” Not “five-eleven but with the personality of a tall guy.” No. I want skyscraper. I want nosebleeds when we kiss. I want TSA to ask him to duck under the metal detector.

  • Ginger: Like, actual ginger. Not “strawberry blonde if you squint.” Not “auburn in the right lighting.” If your hair turns red only after three weeks in Cancun, you don’t qualify.

  • Blue Eyes: The shade that says, “Daddy’s money bought me a Tesla, but I’m still humble enough to carry your tote bag through Trader Joe’s.”

  • Trust Fund: If I’m putting up with your beard trimmings in my sink, the least you can do is buy me a house with a second sink.


Bonus Points (a.k.a. My Love Language):


  • Abs and Dad Bod Combo: I want a man who can deadlift me and double-fist nachos on the couch. Think Thor before and after Ragnarok—just rotate him depending on the day.

  • Must Worship Fluffy Dad Bods: Translation: you better look at mine like it’s a Michelin-star menu. If you want an IG fitness clone with 2% body fat, keep scrolling. This is a dad-bod palace, baby, complete with snacks, Crocs, and sweatpants I stole from my ex.



Why This Is Apparently Impossible


Because apps are filled with:


  • Men who are 5’9” but “manifest tall energy.”

  • Guys with “blond vibes” (sir, that’s peroxide and denial).

  • Eyes hidden behind Oakleys from a 2008 gas station clearance rack.

  • Bank accounts that scream “cash app request me $8 for Taco Bell.”



My Next Move


I’m tempted to launch my own dating app: GingersOnlyFunds. Upload your tax returns, genetic test (ginger verified), shirtless selfie, and a picture next to a CVS receipt for scale. Oh, and a notarized statement that you would crawl across broken glass for a dad bod cuddle.


Until then, I’ll just be here—side-eyeing every “I swear I’m 6 foot” profile while manifesting my ginger Rockefeller.



PS: If you are a 6’3” ginger with blue eyes, a trust fund, abs and dad-bod squish, and you find fluffy dad bods irresistible? Congratulations. You’ve found your destiny. Slide into my DMs immediately—before Roxi and Xena file a missing person’s report on you

 
 
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