What This Girl Wants

The ever fabulous chowyunsmut recently blogged about what she's looking for in a mate* and that got me thinking.

It's often been said that the older we get, the less likely we are to find a long term relationship - not because there are suddenly less people in the world, but because we get "too picky" as we get older.

I prefer to think of it as having a more refined dating palette.

Other tastes mature (Remember all that Boone's Farm you drank in college thinking it was high-quality wine?), why shouldn't our taste in partners do the same? I've written before about what a girl wants and I still stand by these words: If you want to kiss me, fucking kiss me. But that's not really everything, is it?

In the last dozen years I've been in a handful of serious relationships, in more than a few casual relationships, and on too many dates to count. I'm not the same girl I was at 16, or at 23, and the things I want now are very different from the things I wanted then.

I'm happy to say, I've learned a few things along the way.

I've learned that I tend to be drawn to big, tall men because they instinctively make me feel more feminine. Plus, the likelihood of them being able to toss me around is much greater! I like well-planned and well-executed body art, but I recognize that it's not for everyone. Strong hands with well-kept nails make me happy. Dimples and wallet chains make me happier. An easy smile and a mischevious glint in the eye make me melt.

However, my head can be turned just as easily by a short, wiry guy with a great smile and a confident opening line. Attitude and actions are far more important to me now than broad shoulders or thick curls. Historically, my partners have come in all shapes and sizes.

I've learned that how a man presents himself to the world is an excellent indicator of how he'll treat you. So perfectly groomed that you could slice butter with the creases in his pants? You'll only be arm candy and the minute you look less than perfect he'll drop you for the nearest Vogue model. Unable to dig out a pressed shirt even for your grandmother's funeral? He'll show your relationship the same lack of care: everything will be fine if you're right in front of him, but don't count on him to show up to help (or even answer the phone) when you lock yourself out in the middle of the night.

So I look for those in the middle... men who pay attention when they get dressed in the morning, but not so much attention that I can't get near the mirror... men who can throw on grubby clothes to help me weed the garden, but who can also wear a tuxedo confidently and without complaint. Men who own accessories like watches, belts, and ties. These are the men who will open doors for me, but not be intimidated that I own my own power tools.

I've learned that a partner with whom I can't converse isn't much of a partner at all. Formal education isn't nearly as important as being interested and engaged in the world around us. Case in point: Mongo and I have long and complex political discussions that inevitably send us scrambling to wikipedia to look up some little-known historical fact. He has neither a college degree nor a high school diploma.

Have an opinion about something, please. Preferably lots of somethings. Be able to support those opinions. Be able to listen to points of view outside your opinions. Be willing to agree to disagree. Be courageous enough to talk through problems rather than avoid them until they've taken on a destructive life of their own. And for god's sake, have a sense of humor. Life is an absurd, serendipitous adventure and we're never going to make it through if we can't laugh about it.

I've learned that I have zero tolerance for any variation on the following phrases:

I totally meant to call you, but...
Oh my god, is *insert important event here* tonight?
Yeah, honey, I'll do that in just one second...

Call when you say you'll call, show up when you say you'll show up, and take a measure of adult responsibility for the less-than-fun things (like, taking out the trash) that accompany the fun things (like, getting the sheets so covered in whipped cream that we're forced to trash them).

And finally, I've learned that all of the broad shoulders, neat clothes, witty conversation, and returned phone calls in the world won't make a lick of difference if the zing isn't there. You know it when you have it... it's the frisson that runs up your spine when you see his number come up on your phone. It's the jolt that makes your heart pound the first time his hand brushes yours. It's the warmth that spreads through you when he tells you that you're beautiful, even though you have the flu and haven't washed your hair or gotten out of your pajamas in two days. The zing is intangible, but absolutely indispensable.

This girl wants the zing.
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*If you happen to be a man who meets chowyun's description? Email her. Now. 'Cause she's twice as cool and funny in person as she is in text.