Good on paper, not in the pants
Have you ever been hassled by your friends to find a ‘nice guy’? Or been the subject of an intervention by people who want you to stop dating assholes? Yeh, well I’m that chick. The one who everyone says is fun, intelligent, charismatic and cute (even when spilling coffee on myself) but still manages to date fuckboys who can’t pay for their own happy meals.
Enter well meaning girlfriend (usually a lovely person but who for the mean time is masquerading as an entitled troll). She wants to set you up with a friend of a friend/her new boyfriend’s friend who is just wonderful, and a true gentleman and “totally right for you” because you need some stability. VOMIT.
You meet said chap and indeed he is lovely. For the sake of your practical side that’s possibly a little bit scared of becoming an old cat lady with lots of candles and a bevy of hot cabana pool boys you agree to a second date, and then a third date and so on. Eventually you progress to a dinner date, including cocktails, which means that there is potential to go home and get horizontally acquainted. The dinner goes well, conversation flows and you even start to see his attractive qualities, but then you find yourself yawning into your dessert wine and thinking that you might actually like to go home and eat caramel popcorn in bed, alone. (I know I just had dinner, I’m drunk OK?). A swift exit looks even more enticing when you sneak off to the toilet and text Maddy who agrees to meet you at the local sex shop for a spot of impulse vibrator buying.
After a $400 dinner, numerous cocktails AND oysters these are not positive signs.
I know I don’t speak for the entire population of women here (or men) but to me, being good on paper and ticking boxes that society says one should tick does not mean you’re excited about the guy ticking YOUR box, or doing anything else in the region of your pants for that matter.
Generally we are critical of men for being superficial in their guidelines to attraction because they (often) make major judgements based on aesthetics. But to be honest, they’re not really wrong. There’s something to be said for the pure, magnetic chemistry and physical, animal attraction that you feel for someone you’re truly into. Chicks call it butterflies, guys call it a boner and some of us deny it, so that we can steer ourselves towards making better, more mature decisions (zzzz boring).
Perhaps I’m too picky, or idealistic. Maybe deep down I’m a romantic and should be hanging in the 1800’s with Austen and her side saddle riding boys, but to me, if I don’t want to tear a guys clothes off and lick champagne off their naked body then it’s a pretty clear indicator that I am not interested.
So, just remember, a man who is good on paper isn’t necessarily good for the pants. Get your priorities straight unless you never want your knickers tangled.