For the past few months I have been having lots of discussions with my friends on THE ONE. It started with me having borrowed a book from the local lending library called “Bet Me” written by one Ms Jennifer Crusie. It was a beautifully written book as far as romantic books go. Mixing humour and subtle romance and sometimes the-oh not so subtle intimacy, she weaved a story around a handsome guy and a well endowed un-anorexic gal with an attitude (haven’t we read those a zillion times!), and made a winner out of it too. My friend and I were left wondering how such stories could exist in the world these days where in beauty and money was everything to most people. I was of the opinion that if the girl was not wealthy she should be extremely good looking to catch the prime guy in a match. If she didn’t have looks well she’d at least have money to fall back on.
Now it was the in-betweens like me and her who had problems, we decided. The ones who I could call “the averagers”, who had average looks, average money, average skills, average attitude with a spark of that special something. To our credit we did our needful to the body hunkering looks dependent mass, by maintaining our standards only for the drop dead gorgeous guys of the world. And it’s no big secret that they were hard to come by. And even if they do, they anyway fell for the drop dead gorgeous or filthy rich women. Even so, the very few men who fit that above description and who happened to cross our paths, we found to be boring. Yeah well, the likes that depended on their looks so much that somewhere down the line they forgot what it was to depend on other skills and forgot to develop them.
So we conceded. We decided it’d not be too bad if the second type of guys fell for us. The ones who were an intoxicating mix of metrosexual male and brawny man. The ones who worked for themselves, for others, for pure passion, for money or even for the heck of it. But definitely not the ones who stayed at home to look after the house. What the hell! We were still the old fashioned ones. We wanted our man to be the bread winner of the house and feminism be hanged! We wanted a man who laughed at himself and at our jokes and give a quick repartee when the occasion rose, the one who would be a gentleman and remembered to open the doors or pull a chair for us. We wanted someone who said we were beautiful and meant it. The kind of man who was intelligent but not necessarily an A grader. The kind who we would love to show off to our friends, who’d charm the shoes out of them but still be loyal to us. And many more such small things that we forget to look out for but are pleased when he surprises us with at moments.
By now we were thoroughly carried away by our description of our second choice man; the first choice being the Mr. Handsome with all of the above. But on hard thinking we realized that choice two was really choice number one, because if a man was so good looking as our first choice guy, we’d probably be wilting in insecurity over our looks. And being Averagers we couldn’t have that could we?
So there we were, with a list of characteristics in a guy to die for. But no body fitting the bill, really. And then a big horrific thought struck us. If a man were to create a choice of potential girl friends, where would we figure? Any ideas anybody?
Now it was the in-betweens like me and her who had problems, we decided. The ones who I could call “the averagers”, who had average looks, average money, average skills, average attitude with a spark of that special something. To our credit we did our needful to the body hunkering looks dependent mass, by maintaining our standards only for the drop dead gorgeous guys of the world. And it’s no big secret that they were hard to come by. And even if they do, they anyway fell for the drop dead gorgeous or filthy rich women. Even so, the very few men who fit that above description and who happened to cross our paths, we found to be boring. Yeah well, the likes that depended on their looks so much that somewhere down the line they forgot what it was to depend on other skills and forgot to develop them.
So we conceded. We decided it’d not be too bad if the second type of guys fell for us. The ones who were an intoxicating mix of metrosexual male and brawny man. The ones who worked for themselves, for others, for pure passion, for money or even for the heck of it. But definitely not the ones who stayed at home to look after the house. What the hell! We were still the old fashioned ones. We wanted our man to be the bread winner of the house and feminism be hanged! We wanted a man who laughed at himself and at our jokes and give a quick repartee when the occasion rose, the one who would be a gentleman and remembered to open the doors or pull a chair for us. We wanted someone who said we were beautiful and meant it. The kind of man who was intelligent but not necessarily an A grader. The kind who we would love to show off to our friends, who’d charm the shoes out of them but still be loyal to us. And many more such small things that we forget to look out for but are pleased when he surprises us with at moments.
By now we were thoroughly carried away by our description of our second choice man; the first choice being the Mr. Handsome with all of the above. But on hard thinking we realized that choice two was really choice number one, because if a man was so good looking as our first choice guy, we’d probably be wilting in insecurity over our looks. And being Averagers we couldn’t have that could we?
So there we were, with a list of characteristics in a guy to die for. But no body fitting the bill, really. And then a big horrific thought struck us. If a man were to create a choice of potential girl friends, where would we figure? Any ideas anybody?
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