Single White Male, 27
seeks
Single Female, 25-30
the following qualifications are a BIG plus………..
MUST BE INTELLIGENT
I never used to think about whether girls I met were intelligent or not. It seemed like they all were, at least to a satisfactory extent. Then I moved to Los Angeles. There are a lot of idiots here. There are a lot of smart women too; I have some female friends who are sharp, witty, educated and either totally unavailable or totally wrong for me.
I’ve been on dates with girls whose shtick is stupidity. It’s their way of flirting and being cute. They play the wide-eyed, naive damsel who flatters and flirts with the big strong man by oohing and aahing over how wise he is. It’s pathetic. One time I told a date that I was from Chicago and she said this:
“Really? I’ve never been there!
If that’s true, I thought, why would you admit that? Wouldn’t you want to keep that from me? This was before I understood that some girls think stupidity and naivete are attractive to men. And even if this girl did know what state my home town is in, she probably would have pronounced it “Ell-a-noise.” So for the rest of the date I used fancy words like “innocuous” and “alacrity” just to fuck with her. It was fun to watch her pretend like she knew what I was talking about.
Anyway, getting back to the point, you really must be smart. You don’t have to be brilliant. I’m certainly not- I lose my keys at least once a day and this morning I watered a fake plant. But you need to have something to say, several things in fact. You need to initiate conversations, ask questions, make jokes, bust my balls, call me out on my shit, make me laugh, understand what I mean when I use a word longer than three syllables, and so many other things that should just come naturally.
I’ve had friends try to set me up recently, and they always start telling me, “She’s absolutely gorgeous, great body…” to which I reply, “yeah, yeah, yeah- is she smart?” Their response is usually, “Um, is she smart? Yeah- totally.” -which sounds suspiciously like, “Who gives a shit, she’s hot as hell.”
When your friends describe you, I want one of the first few adjectives they use to be “smart.”
College
I would really prefer that you went to college. I don’t care what college. I don’t even really care if you graduated. Anyone reading this in the Midwest and East Coast is probably thinking it’s strange that I even need to include this, that I should just take it for granted that any young lady I meet has gone to college. I envy your ignorance of Los Angeles and wish it was my own.
Let me also say that I know some fantastic people, people I care about very much, who never went to college. This includes some of my closest friends. And while I was laboring through Physics and adoring John Milton, they were thriving in their careers and growing in their own way. I’m not saying it’s wrong, it’s just a matter of my taste. In terms of having a relationship with someone, I think it’s a key thing to have in common. It’s not even about getting a degree or advancing your formal education. I think most of that is bullshit. It’s about the experience. I grew up in college. I fell in love. I changed dramatically in four years, and I’ve been out with women who have trouble relating to my college experiences because they didn’t have their own. Imagine you were dating someone who never went to high school, who was home-schooled for their entire upbringing. Wouldn’t that be a little bizarre? It’s not a “deal breaker,” to use a very tired female term, but it’s something that’s important to me.
MUST BE PHYSICALLY ATTRACTIVE
You don’t have to be a 10. Or a 9, or even an 8. I would love a nice 7 though. Someone who my friends find very attractive, but who doesn’t make them uncomfortable because you’re so over the top sexy or hot. In fact, I would much prefer that people refer to you as “pretty,” rather than “hot.” Describing a women as “pretty,” or even “beautiful” encapsulates so many other attractive features, like class, refinement, and a degree of uniqueness. There are a million “hot” girls, particularly where I live, but I rarely see anyone “beautiful.” Clothes, hair, accessories- they’re all part of the “beautiful” girl package. A “beautiful” girl is put together. She’s got the right earrings on, she has a cute bag and she looks just as beautiful sipping coffee on Sunday morning.
Calling someone “hot,” on the other hand, insinuates a sexual, and potentially “loose” appeal. “Hot” girls are the kind you want when you’re 23. They’re wet dreams. Usually arrogant, overdone and disinterested..
Famous “Hot” Girls- Carmen Electra, Jessica Alba, Jessica Simpson
Famous “Beautiful” Girls- Rachel Weisz, Natalie Portman, Rachel McAdams, Jennifer Connely
I want someone whose appearance makes me want to kiss her, not get her naked.
That despicable song “Don’t Cha” by the Pussy Cat Dolls is the anthem of the “hot” girl, and it makes me sick. (see THE HATE LIST)
WORKING OUT
You must exercise. Shit, as soon as I write that I feel like an ape who wants a woman with an ass I can bounce quarters off of. That’s not the case, I assure you. Someone who obsesses about working out, who spends every waking moment at the gym is almost as unattractive to me as someone who eats Chee-tos and McDonalds several times a week. I would love someone who has a balance in this regard. It’s important for you to stay healthy, stay in shape, feel good and look good. Yet if we’re in the middle of enjoying a nice meal or maybe some popcorn you do not, under any circumstances say something like, “This is gonna make me so fat, I have to do triple cardio tomorrow.” That would be like me kissing you with my eyes open so I can still watch Sean Salisbury do “Fact or Fiction” on Sportscenter. It ruins the moment. And it’s not as if you should be at the gym staying in shape, while I’m home drinking Stella and tinkering with my fantasy lineup. I’ll stay in shape for you too. It’s a courtesy.
Fingernails-
I would really like it if you took care of your hands and nails. I think pretty fingernails are something that are so distinctly female, something we don’t have. Bitten-down or neglected fingernails strip women of their femininity, and for God’s sake don’t get those fake ones.
Piercings-
I would love it if your piercings were exclusively in your ears.
Tattoos-
I really don’t care for tattoos, but if you just couldn’t resist getting a dolphin on your ankle when you were a freshman in college, so be it. (If I were to eliminate all females who decided to get some meaningless tattoo like a star or a rainbow or some ridiculous Asian symbol on their foot or ankle, I would shrink the pool of eligibility by a staggering percentage, and I’m not willing to do that.)
What is not cool, however, is any kind of lower-back tattoo. Each gender has its own inexcusable and inevitably regretful tattoo. For males, it’s the barbed wire around the bicep. This was really cool for about 10 minutes in the late 90′s and every time I look at my beloved Brian Urlacher, I just wish he had made a different choice. For females, it’s the exotic, pseudo-badass pattern about 4-6 inches above their ass crack, placed deliberately so they can show it off when they wear their belly shirts. Come to think of it, the lower-back tattoo is the calling card of the “hot” girl. More power to them, but it’s just not for me.
Appearance details that I DON’T care about-
I really have no preference what color your hair is. While my favorite is brunette, I’m open to red, blonde, black, whatever. Unless you have some horrendous, cheap dye job or some kind of radical highlights that make you look like a stripper, I’m cool with whatever. -oh yeah, and really short hair is difficult to pull off. I’m usually not a fan. Demi Moore looked pretty good in Ghost, and Natalie Portman looked even prettier after she shaved it off in V for Vendetta, but not many women look like these two. Just like fingernails- hair makes women feminine, beautiful, different from men. I would love it if you had some. ….and if you want to wear it in a high ponytail when you work out, so it tosses playfully from side to side as you run, um, that would be okay too.
I don’t care how tall you are, unless you’re abnormally short (under five feet) or abnormally tall (above six).
I don’t care about your breast size. That’s right. I really don’t. I’ve never really been into someone who’s big-chested, and I just don’t really care. For me, breasts are very low on the totem pole of feminine delights. As long as you’ve got a little something, I’m good to go. Women with absolutely no bosom whatsoever, I mean zero, are a little weird. Kate Hudson has absolutely nothing and it’s kind of disappointing. But outside of that, it’s all good.
I don’t care about your skin color. I’ve been all over the globe with my significant others. White, Latin, Asian. All are welcome.
MUST BE CLOSE WITH FAMILY
I feel bad for people who have volatile or defunct relationships with their parents. Normally it’s not their fault, normally their parents have problems that have lead to bruised or severed ties with their children. And if I met a wonderful women who hated her dad, it’s not as if I would kick her to the curb, but it would be hard for me. You must have a strong relationship with their family. It’s more important than ponytails, treadmills and state pronunciation.
I went out with a girl a few months back who told me early on in the evening that she hadn’t talked to her mom in 7 years. That sentence, as sad as it was, eliminated vast acreage in our plot of chemistry. I couldn’t possibly relate to her situation, nor could she with mine.
Again, none of the things I’m listing in this ad, none of the turn-offs, are indictments of anyone who goes against them. It just means they may not be right for me.
And I’m not demanding that you hold hands with your brothers and sisters while you all say grace before Dad carves the turkey every year. Every family has flaws. Mine has gone through innumerable peaks and plummets alike, and our family tree gets more intricate every year. But the cohesion never falters.
I want to be close with your family. I want to shit-talk with your brothers and Dad when the Bears play their team in the Fall. I want to talk to your Mom and sisters when you’re upset and crying, so they can give me insight as to what the hell I should (or shouldn’t) do. I’ve been lucky enough to feel the embrace of my ex-girlfriends’ families, all very loving, and I think it’s one of the best parts of being with someone- seeing where she came from and meeting the people who raised her to be as wonderful as she is. Awwwwwww.
On the flip-side, there can be too much of a good thing. I really want you to be close with your mother. But to any ladies reading this- I want you to understand something. We don’t like it when we realize that we’re dating you and your mother. It makes us uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this, but I have friends who have been through it and it drives them crazy.
“Dude, she talks to her mom 5-6 times a day. I’m not kidding. She calls her after we walk out of movie to tell her all about it before we’ve even talked about it ourselves. I fucking hate it.”
I hate it and I’ve never even been through it. I’m probably looking to have some of the cake that I’m eating right now, but as much as I want you to be close, you can’t talk to her mom more than once a day. Sorry, I’m laying down the law. Preferably you talk to her 3-4 times a week at the most. I’ve even heard of girls that call their mom every night before they go to bed, just to say goodnight. I shit you not. Cut the umbilical chord for God’s sake. How would you feel if we were going to sleep next to each other, I was holding you, and just as we were about to nod off I shot out of bed and called my dad to say goodnight? Let me guess, “It’s not the same thing.” If I had a dollar for every time I heard that I would move to Chicago tomorrow.
MUST LIKE, BUT NOT LOVE, SPORTS
This is always a tough one. I’m a big sports fan. Huge. Go ahead, sigh and roll your eyes at the sheer predictability. Done? Okay, I’ll continue.
The thing is, I’m not sure that most women know how hot we think it is when you want to curl up and watch the game with us, or even go to the game. If you did, you would spend a lot less time over-plucking your eyebrows and a little more time comprehending the difference between “quarterback” and “cornerback.”
Imagine how you would feel if we spent all day shopping with you, telling you how great you look in everything you try on, then buying everything you try on, holding your hand, sneaking into the dressing room to make out with you, then stopping at Cartier on the way home to buy you a new watch before we got back to the house and massaged you in between glasses of wine and before a gourmet meal that we cooked for you? You can make us feel the same way by just showing a bit of excitement about the Fighting Irish or the Bears, and maybe knowing some of the players. We don’t even care that your favorite player is only your favorite because you think he’s hot. We just love that you know him. Getting up and cheering with us when our team blocks a punt, or even getting pissed when we drop a pass is just HOT. I’m telling you. It does more than you can imagine.
And I understand it’s a two-way street. To anyone who answers this ad, I have no problem watching Grey’s Anatomy or The Bachelor with you during the week. I’m down. But believe me, forget about the lingerie. Put on a football jersey on Sunday morning and I’ll melt.
However, yet again, there is a limit to this. It’s just like the family situation. I want you to be close to your mom, but I don’t want your mom to be in the #1 spot in your Top 8. I want you to like sports, but not love them. When a girl starts debating strategy and saying things they overheard on Sportcenter, like, “I really think the Giants should use their two-minute offense right now,” it gets annoying. Especially when the Giants are leading by 17 points in the 4th quarter. Now, if she’s saying it to be cute, or to show that she’s interested, it’s fantastic. “You’re right sweetheart, they should use the two-minute right now, in fact they should do an on-sides kick after they score, too. Now get over here and let me hug you.”
But I’ve met girls who start arguing intensely with a room full of guys over sports topics that are way over their heads. Know your role. Yes, this is chauvinistic. No, I don’t care. You would like it if I showed an interest in your makeup, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t go over well if I started showing too much interest.
Here’s a barometer. You should know who 2-3 of the following people are (their teams, jersey numbers, endorsements, stats, etc. are a bonus):
-Peyton Manning
-Dwyane Wade
-Derek Jeter
-T.O.
-Barry Bonds
-Ben Roethlisberger
(If you are in a relationship and you don’t know who any of these people are, I sincerely recommend that you learn a couple of them. It might get you some extra lovin’.)
Here are some people that you should absolutely not know:
-Darren Sharper
-Scott Spiezio
-Tyson Chandler
-Flozell Adams
-Matt Stairs
-Olindo Mare
(I’m betting that most of the guys reading this don’t know who all of these players are. So if you’re a female, and you do, I’m turned off by how much you know about sports, and I don’t think I’m alone.)
MUST HAVE A LEGITIMATE NAME
I have a massive prejudice against stupid names. I’ve discussed this before. It’s all fun and games until I meet someone who seems attractive and intelligent, yet has a ghastly name. It’s going to be almost impossible for me to embrace you if you have a stripper name. If your name could fill in the blank within the following sentence, it’s going to be really hard for me:
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen! Please give a warm, DejaVu welcome to ______, now dancing on the main stage!”
Candidates include-
-Summer
-Mercedes
-Brandy
-Ginger
-April (I’ve also met a “December.” No shit.)
-Bambi (again, autobiographical)
Also, you’re only allowed to have one first name. I think one first name is sufficient, really. That’s why they don’t call it “first names.” This eliminates such gems like:
-JenniLyn
-SueCasey
-AmyJo
-Mary-Kate (yes, ½ of Michelle Tanner is out of contention)
And finally, perhaps the most egregious offense is taking a nice, traditional name and butchering the spelling. I have seen each of these in my travels, believe it or not:
-Jessika (Just stupid. What else can I say?)
-Nichole (Disgusting. This name has the word “hole” in it!)
-Amanduh (Yes, I have seen this. I’m not kidding. It was in the South. The last syllable says it all.)
-Ashleigh, or Ashlee (when A.Simpson decided to overhaul her face, she should have also swapped an “e” for a “y.”)
-Elizabith (This is maybe the most ignorant of all. Imagine having a dyslexic typo in your name. Just because something sounds that way, it doesn’t mean you spell it that way. Would you name your son “Brandin?” How about “Cristafer?”)
It sounds absurd, I realize. But if my dreamgirl replies to this ad, and she has one of the names listed above, I don’t think I can go out with her. Should I get over this? I’m not sure I can.
MUST NOT BE INTENSELY RELIGIOUS
I’m not very religious at all. Sometimes I wish I was. But I can’t force it. I was raised Catholic. Christened, Communed, Confirmed, Couldn’t really care less now. I wish I did, but I don’t. The good thing is, if you reply to this ad, I don’t care what religion you are. I have no preference. Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Atheist, Nihilist (must be exhausting), Scientologist, Christian Scientist, Branch Davidian, I don’t care. I welcome your viewpoints. *point of interest, for some reason my Spellcheck is not recognizing “Scientologist,” and it has a red line under it. I bet Maverick would be pissed about that one.
Anyway, I’m very open to any religion you may endorse. As long as you’re not too involved or enthusiastic about spreading its message. “Extremely religious” is right up there with “underweight” as the least desirable descriptions I can imagine. For some people, religion is their savior, their everything. For me, when I went on a date a few years ago and the girl said she has trouble meeting guys because of her “relationship with the Lord,” I wanted to ask for the check more than I did with the “Ell-a-noise” idiot.
Go to church. Pray. Confess. Fast. Volunteer. Say grace. Sacrifice for your religion. I have a lot of respect for those types of things. They’re all great. Just please don’t preach and please don’t judge. I think religion is a personal thing that for some reason people decide to cast on everyone around them like a bunch of celebrities trying to “rock the vote.”
I also went out with a “hot” girl who told me that she and her mom went to see one of those crazy faith healers who sell out arenas by putting their hands on paralyzed “worshippers” and making them walk. I LOL’d at her joke and then stopped myself and said, “You’re kidding, right?” She wasn’t.
This could easily turn into a rant, but I’m not going there. Another time. For any young lady who has gotten this far, I hope you’ll continue to read, God dammit.
MUST BE SPONTANEOUS
We’ve been dating for a few months. Things are going pretty well. I like you a lot. It’s Friday afternoon. We don’t really have any weekend plans. I look at you kind of weird for a second, and then say, “Let’s go to Vegas. Right now.”
Your reply is:
A) Ummm, Wow. Okay! Let’s do it! I was supposed to go out with So-and-So tomorrow, but whatever. I’ll throw some things in a bag and you check the flights out of Burbank. (runs away, giggling)
B) What? Are you serious? I’m not going to Vegas. Are you serious? Where are we going to stay? We won’t be able to get a flight and I’m not driving. If you wanted to go, you should have told me earlier and we could have made plans. I’m going to the gym.
Spontaneity and surprises are vital tools in a relationship. I hope you picked A, and I hope you meant it. I subscribe to the you-only-live-once theory, big time. I can’t settle for someone without a surging sense of adventure, and neither should you.
MUST ENJOY ALCOHOL
It sounds wrong to say it out loud, but I’m going to have a hard time going out with you if you don’t drink. I like to drink. Sometimes I love it. You don’t have to throw back Jager shots and puke in the cab (hopefully you got that out of your system in college), but if you can’t enjoy a bottle of wine with me at dinner it’s gonna be tough. It’s not just the wine thing either. There’s a very unique type of defenseless bonding that a few shots or cocktails can enable. There’s nothing better than getting drunk with a girl you like for the first time. It’s the best.
I know I’m getting relatively older, and my fraternity days are behind me, but I still have a good 40 years of drinking ahead of me and I want you to be there with me. I’ve dated girls who tell me, “I just don’t feel like I need to drink to have a good time.” Good for you. I do. Sometimes. In fact there are certain environments- an office party, tailgating -where I’m not only going to have a bad time if I’m sober, I’m going to be miserable. I wish I was drinking right now.
Also- if you like beer it’s a plus. Having a beer with your girlfriend is just like watching her cheer when Tommie Harris sacks Matt Hasselbeck. It’s hot.
Call it superficial, call it immature. Ideally I should view alcohol and trivial and irreverent, blah blah blah. But it would be very hard to date a girl who didn’t drink at all.
I went out with a pretty girl a few years ago who ordered water when the waitress came by, prompting me to do the same. So then she said “You know, you can get a beer if you want. I just don’t drink.” I felt a quick intake of breath like I just been punched in the stomach, and then tried to be polite and said, “Oh, no, I just felt like water too. It’s cool.”
Fast forward 20 minutes and I’m finishing my second Stella, and feeling better for it.
Bottoms up, ladies.
MUST NOT SMOKE
Here we go. This has been a difficult topic over the years. People who know me well know that I loathe cigarettes. Not a fan. They don’t belong on THE HATE LIST because they’re kind of off the charts. It wouldn’t do them justice to place them along side comparatively tame items like subscription cards and the dancing Six Flags guy. But I’ll say no more. I’ve learned not to preach about cigarettes, and again, I have many close friends who smoke. I’m not going to say much about this, because people who go on and on about how nasty cigarettes are have no right to criticize political and religious preachers. -and God knows I criticize those people.
I’m sorry, but you can’t smoke. You just can’t. Have one every now and then when (God willing) you’re drunk, okay. Have a couple with a certain friend of yours, I understand. I’ve tried very hard over the years to develop an acceptance of these pardonable “offenses.” There are people who smoke, some of them are truly worth knowing and loving.
That being said, cigarette breath, smoke-stained clothes, gray teeth, etc etc. I can’t handle it. If there’s a habit of mine you don’t like, I’ll be willing to give it up if you try to give up smoking. I know it’s not easy. I’ve seen people try to quit. They struggle. I’ll do whatever I can to help you. I just can’t handle it. You’re too pretty to do that to yourself.
MUST EAT
I went out with a girl recently. After a nice dinner I suggested that we get some ice cream. She replied:
“I don’t eat ice cream.”
“Really? Like, as a general rule? How come?”
“Because ice cream makes you fat.”
Uh, yeah, that’s why I like it. Okay then. Can’t wait to get a pizza or margaritas with this girl. I hope we can have a long relationship filled with lots and lots of LETTUCE! Yee-haw.
I love to eat. More than the average guy. I’ll try anything and I adore pretty much every cuisine. I have friendships that are based entirely on food. It’s something every single human being has in common. We all eat. A girl who doesn’t like to eat is akin to a girl who doesn’t like sex. It’s that kind of turnoff.
There’s a pattern here, are you seeing it? Eat! Drink! (Don’t smoke. Or talk about Jesus). Be Merry!
ADDITIONAL RANDOM QUALITIES
-You read. Books. Not US Weekly (but that’s okay, in addition. I like it sometimes too. Celebrities- they’re just like us!).
-You like bars. Not clubs. BARS. B-a-r-s. Jukeboxes. Dartboards. Pool tables. Photo Hunt (YES!). Communal popcorn. Clubs are okay every once in a while, if only to remind us why we hate them. More than anything, you like restaurants. Again- eating, drinking, you know the drill……
-You love movies. And you love all kinds of movies. Comedies. Dramas. Action. Horror. Adult. All of them. In the theater or on the couch.
-You can admit when you’re wrong, and you can apologize. It sounds simple, but millions of relationships have died because of an inability to do these things. I think I’m pretty good at this, or it might be that I’m pretty good at being wrong. Huh.
-You’re a cuddler. Gotta have it. Maybe the best thing in the world. I’m a professional. Bring your A-game.
-You like music. Everyone likes music, you say? Not in my experience. I play music all day every day. In my car, in my house, on my iPod. It’s a big part of my life. If you have sophisticated, classical or indie musical taste- that’s awesome. If you like Kelly Clarkson and Justin Timberlake, that’s cool too. I can get down with that, just be into whatever you’re into.
-You love surprises. I turn everything into surprises. Everything. If I buy a new toothpaste, I’ll make you close your eyes until I say “Open!”with the new toothpaste in front of your face. But I’ll also spring unexpected gifts and trips on you. You love them all, from toothpaste to Tahiti.
———————————————————————————————
In closing, I would like to say that this is not a list of demands. It’s just a list of tastes. I doubt I will ever meet someone who has all of the qualities listed above, but that’s not the point. What’s that cheesy line that Robin Williams says in Good Will Hunting? “You’re waiting to find out if she’s perfect. I’ve got news for you- she’s not. And neither are you. But what really matters is if you’re perfect for eachother.”
Writing this personal ad was educational for me. Putting all of my preferences and desires down on paper felt a lot different than just spitting out a few obligatory and vague characteristics to one of my female friends when she asks me what I’m looking for. When I read this to myself, I see some hypocrisy. Work out, but not too much. Be close with your family, but not too close. Like sports, but not too much. Yet every second that I begin to tell myself I’m too demanding is followed by several seconds of telling myself not to settle.
Part of me says, “Christ, look at all this shit. Any nice young lady who reads this is just gonna say, ‘It’s not worth it.’ No wonder I’m single.”
Then immediately the bolder, more convincing voice in my head chimes in and says, “Don’t listen to that. She’s out there. And this list is a breeze for her. Effortless. And her list would be the same for you. Stick to your guns, man.”
That’s the plan.