This supremely hot friend of mine once listed off what he looked for in a girl. At the time, we were on my bed and he was getting a secretly-erotic-but-totally-platonic massage from Yours Truly. Did I mention the supremely hot part? The man was a living Adonis rising from the ocean right into my bedroom. No matter how many cheap beers I’d had, I was not going to fuck this up.
Definitely someone down to Earth. Sense of humor. Loves dogs, the outdoors, cooking, travel, also football. Wants a big family. Enjoys exercise and staying fit. Equal parts girly and tomboy. Great laugh. Easygoing.
Besides ‘sense of humor,’ I resembled none of these things. That was fine, as we were better as friends, but I was curious what men like him – the shiny, top shelf standard in America – looked for in a life partner. So far, the list held zero surprises.
No smokers, no drug users, no Atheists, and definitely no pancake boobs.
Here was a list that was even less achievable for me. I was most surprised by the Atheist thing since I’d never known him to be religious. “You can’t believe in nothing, you have believe in something – and if you don’t, that’s just crazy!” he sort-of explained. This side of him was new to me, and not that interesting. I found it ironic that he couldn’t date some cancerous, godless druggie with delicious tits, when here he was getting a free massage from that exact woman.
“What the hell are pancake boobs?” I asked, picturing actual pancakes where breasts would normally be. If it was bad, it was probably something I had, and if I did have it, knowing that information wasn’t imperative. I always thought people said “Ignorance is bliss” in this condescending way, but really they meant it as discovery. It was a shout-out, an invitation, a proud bumpersticker. In that moment before he answered, I realized ignorance was a real-life solution to real-life problems.