Field notes: My love for Louis CK

By Huntress Thompson

I’ve never quite been able to articulate this properly, but I’m going to have a go now: I find aging, overweight comedians really attractive. Like really really.

Just the one, if I’m honest. Alright, full disclosure: I am in love with Louis CK.

I’ve now been single for just over a year, the longest I’ve ever been single.

The time has lent itself to a lot of introspection and analysis, because I’m suddenly in my late 20s and am only now understanding why one of my dearest friends has called me The Asshole Magnet since varsity.

I’ve spent the last decade dating Assholes at an almost athletic level, and without irony, and I’m not proud of it.

Because people do things without meaning to, particularly mild-mannered people who don’t like hurting other people’s feelings.

But hey, Julia Roberts married Lyle Lovett – I know I’m not the first person in their 20s to find they’re doing Dating wrong.

Up until now, it’s been a chemical inevitability (and a running joke) that, if I’m in a group of people, the Asshole in the group will find me and before I realise the error of my ways, I’ve lost months or years as their girlfriend.

The length of time I’ve already dedicated to the pursuit can only mean that I have some sort of learning disability, so I’ve devoted this past year to getting that shit well in order.

Assholes are not what I want, so I’ve been going through the data to find out what I do want.

I’ve analysed patterns of behavior, common threads and denominators, and this is the result of my research: I have a thing for clever dudes.

Fact: I recently went home with a guy because he made a clever joke about Manic Pixie Dream Girls. That happened.

Being clever is the only thing all of my ex-boyfriends have in common.

A lot of them played guitar, had tattoos and listened to the evil rock music. They were mostly over 6ft, good-looking and socially unpleasant, but the only unbroken, common thread that runs through all the guys I’ve ever dated is that they were all clever little shits.

And there really is no way around it: my type, the kind of guy I actually find attractive, is Louis CK.

I am so in love with Louis CK, it’s fairly tragic.

Here are the things about him that I am particularly in love with:

(Note: All of this information has been gathered from watching Louie and stand-up specials. Research, people.)

  • He hates strangers creatively and without reserve. I have no time for people who have happy as a default setting, and if you assume the best about people you’re just boring to be around.
  • Men who eat pizza are hot. I refuse to explain that because it’s scientific fact.
  • He thinks people younger than him are a) idiots and b) still cooler than him.
  • I imagine that there is grumpy jazz playing in his head at all times, just as Woody Allen has a tiny Cole Porter in his pocket wherever he goes.
  • He understands that if you’re really friends with someone, you’ll take the piss out of them hard because that’s what love is.
  • To him, food is terrifying and a little bit magic.
  • The fact that he makes himself the butt of every joke, especially if he’s saying something you might not be ready to hear. The “Well, what do I know? I’m an idiot” Defence.
  • He’s really really proud of being a good dad.
  • That scene in Louie where he tells Pamela (who finds him asexual) that he’s in love with her, where it’s already steeped in disappointment as it’s coming out of his mouth, but he needs to so say it just to have said it. He knows that affection can be brutal, and at its most intense, it can hurt before it even means anything.
  • He’s brave. Being honest is the bravest thing anyone can do conversationally, and he does it automatically. I don’t know any actual people who do that all the time.
  • In my mind, being in a relationship with Louis CK would involve a lot of rolling your feelings up in a pizza and eating them, while the grumpy jazz in his head plays over you. To me, that’s attractive.

So where do I go with this? How do I proceed now that I know my type? Do I start spending more time at 24 hour pizza places at 3am? (I must assume the opening credits of Louie are a documentary.) Should I expect this kind of world-weary cleverness to be present in all chubby divorcees in their mid-forties?

In New Girl, Zooey Deschanel’s character says her ideal man is Walter Matthau in Grumpy Old Men. That is a girl who knows herself.

And all I’m saying is, I’ve done the research. I have the facts. What do I do with this information?





Huntress Thompson

In the vacuum between dark and light, Siouxsie Sioux and Emmylou Harris, Amelie and Travis Bickle, Huntress Thompson is an idiot lost, and reporting from the field. If you’re after irrational, impassioned rants about cupcakes and Johnny Cash (and you probably aren’t), she’s grumpy, but she’s your girl.


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