My Ideal Man

If I had to write the quintessential romance about the oh-so-perfect male, who said the oh-so-perfect thing, at the oh-so-perfect time, I'd burn it....but not before shamefully sharing it, of course.

Ok, so here it goes....

It would be fall, most certainly fall when we met. He would be tall, but not too tall. Handsome, but not too handsome. The dashing good looks of Clooney in his present aged years, blended with a few off-beat characteristics like a James Franco smile and that damned surprised look Jake Gyllenhaal always wears on his face. His hair would most certainly be dishelved and tuggable, and brown of course. He would have a stylish air about him and wear his clothes in a slightly unkempt manner. An understatement that displayed an “I care, but not too much” attitude. Which, I assure you, would be his disposition on life. He would be the type of male who was centered on his interests and generally unimpressed by frills and frivolity. His mission in life would in no way be dictated by dollar signs and status, but by genuine interest and the form of discipline that comes only from true passion.

He would have taste, great taste. I'm not talking red wine and Beethoven, I'm talking whiskey straight up and maybe a button down shirt; my idea of class is rather simple. He would be the type to keep a respectable place, but a man's place. His clothes would be sitting in his computer chair all wadded up and he would have at least 6 different books strewn across the coffee table. The corner of his floor would be scattered in miscellaneous DVDs and he would have last night's drinks still sitting on the counter. The kind of apartment that says “Hey, I have a life” to attend to but I'm not a complete mess. Most importantly, he would own a handful of “Hey” objects. If you don't know what that means, it is the period in time when you come across one of your most favored things in the world at someone else's place. For example (or in my case), he would own the box set series to Planet Earth, a 6-pack of Breckenridge Vanilla Porter, and maybe a picture from an event we both attended years ago unbeknownst to each others existence.

He would wear sexy morning glasses. This is to any girl who has ever dated a guy with contacts and woken up to him in glasses and felt that unexplainable need to ravish him because of it. I don't know the psychological science behind this mystery, but I know there is one. Ladies?

He would be the kind of guy who kisses his mother goodbye on the forehead and is still only comfortable giving his dad one of those awkward forced sidehugs. He will have grown up with a childhood dog as all good men do and come from a quaint hometown. His parents beginnings in life will have been meager at best, but they “made do” until they established themselves in late adulthood. Because of this, he will have established a kind of character that realizes the actuality and value of hard work. He will have played a sport or two in his life but retired them as hobbies that he participates in twice annually “when the boys come to town.” When he hits his forties, he'll coach.

He'll also have managed to read this entire thing without giving up, rolling his eyes, or feeling some odd sense of insecurity. So uhm, if this is you, call me?