Despite being five feet nine and weighing a hundred and ten pounds, she is basically like a drunk buffalo who has never been a part of human society.

Here is a truly terrible admission. I have never finished—or at least I cannot recollect finishing—a New Yorker feature. This is a sad thought for anyone, but it’s especially mortifying for someone who works at a magazine…at the company that publishes the New Yorker…whose coworkers have copies of that publication delivered to their desks weekly by the New Yorker fairy (who traipses through the halls of Conde Nast wearing a top hat, unfunny captions appearing at his feet). I’ve read the first 1000 words of many, felt that there was really no reason I would ever need to know more about the topic and moved on.

Well today I finished a story from the New Yorker. It is not 10,000 words on zinc. It’s a story by Mindy Kaling of The Office cataloging the female archetypes of every romantic comedy in the last 20 years. It’s hilarious, accurate, and completely worth the undaunting 7-minute read if you are a watcher of rom-coms, a woman, or if you’d like to (painlessly) finish a New Yorker article.

Read here: http://www.newyorker.com/humor/2011/10/03/111003sh_shouts_kaling