So last week I got curious about Virgo dudes born in September after my coworker Dave – total textbook September Virgo – ghosted my birthday invite. Again. Figured instead of complaining, I’d actually poke around and see what’s up with these guys.
The Setup Phase
Started simple: made a list of all September Virgo men I personally know. Five total – Dave, my cousin Mike, college buddy Raj, my barber Hector, and this dude I went on two awkward dates with. Created notes on my phone to track patterns.
Here’s what I did:
- Observed their social media for three days straight – IG stories, Facebook rants, Twitter likes
- Noted how they reacted when plans changed last-minute (spoiler: NOT WELL)
- Tracked how often they mentioned cleaning, organizing, or fixing stuff
- Casually brought up astrology in convos to see if they bit
The Messy Middle Part
First realization? September Virgos love routines like I love tacos. When Hector’s shop moved locations, he sent this seven-paragraph group text about “spatial efficiency logistics”. Meanwhile, Raj literally scheduled Zoom calls just to “optimize grocery shopping routes”. Like bro, chill.
Tried testing the “analytical” stereotype by asking Mike to help troubleshoot my sticky sink. Worst mistake. He showed up with labeled tool bags, demanded I buy six specific washers from some niche hardware store across town, and gave my entire bathroom setup a 2/10 efficiency rating. I still haven’t recovered emotionally.
The Cringe Date Experiment
Reconnected with Dating App Guy (call him Chad) for “research”. Told him I believed moon phases affected baking outcomes. He didn’t laugh. Instead, he pulled out graphs on his phone “debunking celestial influence on gluten development”. Sent me four PDFs later. Four.
Attempted to flip the script by showing up 20 minutes late to a coffee meet-up to test their famous “dislike for chaos”. Chad tapped his watch, glared, and said verbatim: “Your lack of temporal discipline demonstrates fundamental entropy mismanagement.” Dude. It’s a latte, not NASA.
What Actually Stuck
By day five, patterns slapped me in the face:
- Rigid ≠ Reliable: Sure, they’ll show up exactly at 7:00 PM. But if traffic messed up their schedule? Radio silence.
- Fixation on Flaws: Cousin Mike spent 40 minutes explaining why my succulents were positioned for “suboptimal photosynthesis”.
- Zero chill about mess: Dave canceled D&D night because Raj spilled ONE Dorito on his rug. ONE.
So Did I Figure Them Out?
Nope. Screw it. Made brownies with half-assed measurements while blasting punk rock. Left crumbs everywhere. Dave saw my Insta story and texted “Your disregard for volumetric precision causes me physical discomfort.” Blocked his number.
Final takeaway? September Virgo men? Love ‘em or hate ‘em, they’re wired to analyze your toast thickness. Gonna stick to observing cats now. At least they knock stuff over and own it.
