Dear all boys named Andrew in Denver.
I can’t date any more of you.
I have used up my “Andrew” quota for life.
Seriously.
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I had not ever repeated names with dating, so I assumed it was only a matter of time before there was a duplicate.
(Probably primarily because I spend the majority of college and six years dating the same name.)
After all, with some common male names floating out there with unimaginable possible repeats, I am bound to find more than one person named “x” attractive. I realize this.
Probability was in favor of duplicates, and as a single 30 year old I had likely dodged the odds for a while.
But when the universe caught up with me, it did so with a vengeance.
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At first it was amusing… I met a guy after Oil Rig (real name Andrew) and I broke up, and would you believe it? They had the same name. My first repeat! Yes, dating second Andrew was funny. Haha, two guys named the same and I like both of them? Inconceivable.
The third Andrew, short-lived as he was, got nicknamed “3” because I couldn’t believe the coincidence. Another one? Alright, still pretty funny, I guess.
I was out and about for the unofficial holiday this past weekend, only a month or two after 3‘s fade out…
And I met this boy…
Cute, funny, charming, and interested in me…
…
wait for it…
…
…
…
…
Named Andrew.
I can’t do it, Andrew the Fourth.
I just can’t.
It’s too much, even for my irony-loving mind.
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AND THEY HAVE ALL GONE BY ANDREW.
I would even be open-minded to an Andy or Drew… but no.
All Andrews. All The Time.
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So I am putting this out into the universe….
I am open minded to meeting someone great. Someone wonderful even.
Someone cute and funny and charming and interested in me.
(And I realize all of this is coming on the tail of me declaring a readiness to get back out in the dating world for reals. I get the joke. The universe is laughing it’s silly little butt off as we speak.)
Just no more Andrews, please.
30 IS THE NEW... Oh Never Mind. 
I needed this laugh today:P I have that “Nobody can do the…” song popping in my head now after all the No GIF’s.
I have had people call me or say I look like an Andrew…whatever that means. But, it’s not my given name. I have a brother who dated girls in cycles. The first girls he ever dated…3 out of 4 had the same name. Then, there was a second trio or so. We used to joke with him about which number went with what story.
I won’t go into my dating history…did you just see a tumbleweed go by?:P
Well it’s good to know I am not the only one… since this is a new pattern to me, the pseudo-irony of it all is still pretty entertaining/perplexing.
For the record, I have no idea what an Andrew looks like… mine have been across the spectrum visually. And I actually have a couple dear friends named Andrew as well. Huh… just realized I am surrounded by Andrews in all aspects of life!
Glad I could provide a laugh for the day. And no tumbleweeds.
There is no typical or pattern of looks, usually. I personally favor certain first letter names in women, myself. Those are the names that sing in my mind. Thus, I respond to them best. However, finding women with those names and being sure they aren’t crazy or overloaded with more baggage than I can carry is another story. But, I might find five women with one favorable name who all look very different and come with different baggage.
A woman with a harem of Andrews…hmm. Guys get harassed by women for thinking of more than one woman, but it’s okay for a gal like you to have a full class of Andrew-sans at her beckon call.
Yes, tumbleweeds. I am the Prospector from Toy Story 2. Fresh in my box, collecting dust…whoosh!