Amanda's musings: A Cosmopolitan magazine want ad

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Dear Cosmo,

You need me.

As a writer, I realize the old cliché is true: There isn’t anything new under the sun. And as a longtime reader I know you’ve been recycling the same old stories for the past five years or so.

“What he thinks during sex” was an all-caps headline on the November issue. Then “His #1 Sex Wish” was the leader on this month’s.

Don’t get me wrong: I am empathetic to the needs of others – both lovers and friends. What you need up in this glossy is some practical advice. Pleasing your partner? That’s mostly instinct.

I’ve been out on two dates in the past month, and nothing in your magazine had anything close to practical advice for me.

The first guy, I Think I am EE Cummings, a friend from college who began wooing me online with poetry and music. In my mind? Score – a kind, funny, intelligent man who seemed to dig words as much as I do. The first date? The best I’d been on in many, many months. The goodbye kiss? Stellar. The problem?

The second date.

I knew it probably wasn’t going well when Cummings came in with an oversized bottle of Pinot Noir and poured himself a glass out of a tumbler. About 45 minutes and four humongous glasses later the bottle was gone and I had a wasted, 30-something man on my couch telling me about having worn an ex-girlfriend’s thong and his mother’s alcoholism.

I thought to myself, “What would Cosmo tell me to do?” and I came up empty.

So I told him what at least one bartender has said to a drunken hanger-on”: “You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”

And nothing in your magazine prepared me for what to say when another date recently said off-the-cuff, “I think the government should eliminate the appeals process for people who are on death row or in for life. It would save a ton of money.”

I was still reeling from that remark when he followed it up with, “I think George W. Bush could have been the best president in history if he just would have gone with his guts more.”

Again, there was nothing in your pages to give me any insight into how NOT to start a political ideology fight in the middle of Mad Mex.

Then I thought: Would Would Amanda Blu Gillooly Do?

So I beckoned to the barkeep, asked for another expensive Belgium beer and hoped Mr. Reluctant Republican would ask for the check before we got into a discussion on who he respected more, Sarah Palin or Anne Coulter.

I know circulation is down at nearly every publication. There is extreme competition. But if you want honest and edgy you don’t need another “Foreplay Men Crave” story.

You obviously need more Gillooly.

So let me know when my first deadline is.

Warmest Regards,

Amanda “I work for cheap” Gillooly