Dating Advice for Vicars Spurned by Beautiful Women in 19th Century British Novels

Dating Advice for Vicars Spurned by Beautiful Women in 19th Century British Novels

No longer need you be conventional, stuffy and unsexy

by Christine Stevens

 

 

 

Photo by Nikola Knezevic on Unsplash

 

So, young man of the cloth, you find yourself in the midst of a delightful 19th century English novel, attracted to the headstrong, outspoken and very beautiful heroine? You’re feeling pretty good about your chances?

I’ve got some bad news. You’re screwed. Your only function, it turns out, is to show the heroine what she doesn’t want. You’re a very dull and not very sexy foil for the very exciting and very hot romantic hero whom she doeswant.

My name is St. John Eyre Rivers. Well, I should say, my name was St. John Eyre Rivers. You’ll see in a minute. I am basically Jane Eyre’s cousin. I saved her life. I saved her soul. And I revealed to her that she was entitled to a huge inheritance. I asked her to marry me and go to India. After doing all that for a woman, you’d think I’d have a pretty good shot, eh?

Well, think again. Women are not so simple as we vicars might have imagined.

She supposedly heard the “mystical voice” of her bigamist boyfriend Rochester who has lost his eyesight and a hand in a fire.

Why would a woman choose a crazy character like that instead of an upright kind soul like my own?

Because we’re just not sexy. That’s the reason. We’re good. But she wants bad. We make her feel tired. Those young rakes, they make her feel lively.

Never mind. I am now presenting these Seven Steps for Clerics who are Attracted to Spirited, Unconventional, Bright and Beautiful English Heroines. Follow these simple steps and you will win the woman of your dreams and rewrite this sad history. You can be sexy too. It’s just going to take a little work.

 

STEP ONE: Leave the Church. That’s a simple step. You’ll be out of a job, but you’ll be cool. Let’s face it, trudging about the village telling people how pious you are, it’s just not attractive. Take up gambling instead — like that George Wickam in Pride and Prejudice. Everybody loves a handsome young penniless fool.

 

STEP TWO: Rename yourself. These lady writers always give us stuffy names. Who wants to hang around with someone named St. John? Or another unsexy vicar, mentioned below: Casaubon — sounds like a heart condition. What do women want? Wayward, wild, slightly satanic men, to sweep them off their feet. My new name: Wolfstooth.

Sexy, eh?

STEP THREE: Throw her a neg. I learned this from my friend Mr. Darcy. Just be as disagreeable, pompous and horrible as you possibly can be — the girls go nuts. Refuse to dance with her. Insult her family. And generally behave abominably. She’ll be yours in no time.

 

STEP FOUR: Pretend to listen to their opinions. A clergyman I met from Middlemarch, a real uptight old bugger named Casaubon, didn’t let his wife Dorothea contribute any ideas so of course she began hating him. This other young jerk Ladislaw pretended to listen to her, and guess what he got? Mmm hmm. He got some nookie, my friends. How hard is it to nod, make a serious face and act like you think she’s clever? I know, it actually is pretty hard. But something else is even harder, am I right? So listen to that small head of yours, not the large one on top of your neck. The other one is your boss now.

 

STEP FIVE: Luck into a fortune. That’s what this Ladislaw did. He was penniless and pretty cute. But a lot cuter once he got his millions. How do you luck into a fortune? I don’t know. It just seems to happen to dreamy, unconventional, cool guys — like the one you are becoming through these seven steps.

 

STEP SIX: Aim lower. Like my friend Mr. Collins. He ended up with a silly little woman named Charlotte who married him for his money. Some say he settled for second, maybe even third best. But you know what, the guy’s getting laid.

 

STEP SEVEN: Penis enlargement. If you can’t grow your fortune, you can at least grow your johnson. Answer a few of those penis enlargement emails you get all the time. I did. I grew a whole two inches. I feel confident now and much sexier. But if all else fails, this is what you do:

Remember, Vicars! Be sexy! And single young 19th century ladies, shoot me your digits at Wolfstooth@besexy.com. I’m probably going to hook up with Jane Eyre pretty soon, though, so you’d better hurry.

Yours,

Wolfstooth
(formerly the not very sexy vicar St. John Eyre Rivers)

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