The thing is that when a normal person, such as myself, gets dumped there's nobody around to do the same for us. Angelina doesn't go "Oh look, Ben's available again." (To which Brad would reply "What, the fat guy?" and she'd say "Yeah, the fat guy" and he'd go back to working out his abs while she returned to looking through classified ads for more impoverished orphans to adopt) That's fine, I mean I'm utterly attainable for someone with lips as big as Ms. Jolie's, and there's no reason for her to day dream about the life we could build together, but I feel like I should get something. You know, she gets all this attention for being single, why not someone like me?
So I came up with an idea. If celebrities can't feel desire and hope when a member of the underclass becomes single, why not an emotion equally strong but not quite as desirable. Why not revulsion. Hear me out here. A movie star may not fantasize about the opportunity of dallying in bed with me, but she certainly could fear it. Terror could cross her porceline features (Or at least the corner of her eyes if she's Botoxed) as she realized that not only was I free but I'd likely be whacking off to her that very night!
Now you might think it impractical given the ratio of celebrities to normal people, but if you think about it it's probably not. How long does it take to be disgusted by a member of the masses? 15 seconds? And given that there are probably tens of thousands of people out there who could qualify as celebrities (If you include swimsuit models and porn stars) and that most relationships last a good while, 10-15 minutes a day devoted to being disgusted could cover it. You could apply for a celebrity to consider you loathsome and be assigned a specific one. Then just email her when you get dumped, along with an unflattering photo, and let the good times roll. Wouldn't it make you feel better to know that somewhere, out there, in Hollywood, Shannon Elizabeth is shuddering at the thought of caressing your hairy body in bed? Wouldn't it make her feel a little better to know that her next boyfriend will be an underwear model rather than Joe wishes-he-had-a-Sixpack?
I think it might.