After my last post, I got to thinking about what I did not like in men and dating. And the list is long, my friends. Long enough to make me think I’m a mite picky.
I don’t like:
- Being chased
- Being evaluated/judged/criticized
- Being oggled
- Being condesended to/patronized
- Being talked at
- Being hovered over
- “bad boys”
- Pickup artists/playas (and the wanna-bes and flunkies)
- shaven bald head
- excessive and unruly facial hair
- sloppy, unkempt clothes and hair
What do you think? Am I being too picky? Well, even if I am, I don’t think I care that much. I mean, I’d rather being single and celibate than be involved with an inappropriate man. I’ll hold out for someone I can honestly appreciate and like as well as love.
I know what I don’t like, and I also know what I do like, and that list is just as long as, if not longer than, my turn-offs. So, perhaps there’s hope yet inside that ocean of fish–if it hasn’t been over-harvested, that is! Lord knows the good ones get snatched up quickly!
- class clowns
- average joes
- emotionally and mentally stable
- politically and socially Liberal
- spiritually unconventional and religiously skeptical.
- Good smile/teeth (I’m a lipreader. I stare at mouths all day. This is important)
- Clean, well-fitting clothes
There are some things I might be willing to compromise on, as long as the fellow exhibits positive personaliy traits.
- sense of humor
- kind and well-mannered
- reads books, including fiction
- good smile
- knows or is willing to learn American Sign Language
I might date a jock if he’s not a bald, arrogant bully, for example.
But there are some things I’d never compromise on, the deal-breakers:
- Smokes or does drugs
- Exhibits cruel, abusive, or selfish behavior
- Lacks intellectual curiousity
Right now, despite whatever message this post might insinuate, I’m quite happy being single. The celibacy doesn’t bother me too much, quite yet. I’m in no hurry to go fishing, nor am I starving for my catch. That great fish, that studly sturgeon, can swim in that big pond for a while longer. (Even if I’m getting “old” and toeing the spinster line.)