Last night I went to dinner with my super-smart friend Suzanne. I could tell you we discussed global military spending, the universal declaration of human rights and corporate social responsibility -- but we talked about our awful ex-boyfriends. We delved into deep intellectual discussions, such as “What was I thinking?” “Why didn’t you stop me?” and most poignant of all, “When you tried to stop me, why in the hell didn’t I listen?” We compiled a list of our most memorable exes on cocktail napkins.

All About Steve – A great boyfriend, as long as you do what he wants, when he wants, and as long as he wants.

Le Creuset – After sex he’d give you a dutch oven.

Corn Fed - Big and Midwestern, super sweet, and super dumb.

Fireman Steve - Could’ve been All About Steve II (you know how firemen are.)

Underdog – An older guy, and just like the cartoon dog, he had to take a pill to get it up in the air.

Angel – Whenever he got drunk he’d lay on the floor and make carpet angels, cement angels, lawn angels…

Eeyore – A grumpy, depressed guy whose only saving grace – was that he was hung like a donkey.

I’m grateful for nicknames because they’re the Cliff Notes of why each and every one of those guys was a bad choice. I know the perfect guy is out there, but until I get introduced to him, the next guy I’m going to see has the best nickname of all. Cheesemonger Charles, a 90 year-old man who has introduced me to some cheeses that have been the perfect match for me.

That’s why I’m grateful for nicknames.