The Perfect Man

Ok, so I was twenty-five and my parents were getting nervous I would be a lonely old spinster like Old Aunt Gerta. I insisted that twenty-five was still young and I had dating under control. After all, I had subscribed to Love me online dating app. I had filled out my dating profile and swiped through ten matches per day. Each match I selected meant meeting for a drink or coffee and spending an hour listening to the boring routine first date diatribe.

My mother didn’t buy into the earnestness behind my dating resolve.

“Kathleena will be here tomorrow. Try and write down the three top characteristics you want in a husband before she arrives.”

“Mama, please let me find my husband my way. I’m still young, I have plenty of time. Besides I’ve only been working on it for three years because I had to concentrate on college. I wasn’t looking then, I was studying.”

“You have been trying since you were twenty, five years. Really since you were eighteen. My turn.” Mama left humming the matchmaker song.

So the matchmaker, Kathleena arrived. I gave her my list and several things that were non-negotiable like God, children. She asked a million questions.

 The next day Sean arrived. Sean was a six-foot four-inch man, dark hair and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. They were like a tropical sea. Sean had a great sense of humor. A sense of humor was one of the top three things I wanted in a husband.

We went strolling in the park. We skipped over the first date soliloquy of where are you from, brothers and sisters, where do you work … We went for ice cream sundaes.

“So what are you looking for in a wife?” I hesitantly asked.

“She has a job, chews with her mouth closed.”

I laughed. I laughed at all his jokes. But as I left the restaurant I realized I knew nothing about him even though I tried. The date felt like a planned comedy routine.

“Kathleena, he has a great sense of humor but nothing else. Well, I’m sorry he didn’t work out but each one gets us closer to the perfect man.”

“Okay, let’s concentrate on one of your other preferences. ”

The next day Ken appeared. I blinked several times when I first met him because Ken looked like the Ken doll. Blond hair, tall, tanned and muscular. We went to a preppy bar and played pool. The conversation was great. He was awesome. We ordered some food, and even that was fantastic. I was ecstatic. We decided to go back to my apartment to have a drink. Only we didn’t get that far. He poured the drinks, we toasted to us and he proceeded, oh I hate to say this, he cleaned my apartment. HE CLEANED my apartment. I drank more wine. Even though I was appalled at Ken's cleaning, he was so nice to look at. Cringingly, I had cleaned my apartment that day for four hours.

“Kathleena, you’re the specialist. I put cleanliness on my list because my brothers are slobs. Eventually, you get sick and tired of cleaning their messes. I don’t want to marry someone like my brothers. Leaving clothes all over, instead of putting them in the laundry basket. Or putting dirty dishes in the sink, instead of the dishwasher. I mean really, grow up.”

“Okay. So your perfect man needs some sense of humor and some cleanliness. Now, the last characteristic on your list.”

The next day Chris knocked on my door. Chris was a duck dynasty type of man with a bald head and a long reddish beard. I have to admit I was taken aback. Where was the gun or an ax? He was wearing a plaid flannel shirt and worn jeans. I was very skeptical.

“Where would you like to go?” 

“You pick.” And I crossed my fingers behind my back. I was expecting a tractor pull. I know I was stereotyping. I was trying to be open, and he surprised me.

We ended up fishing. He had prepared a picnic and we went out on a canoe. The lake was peaceful. We talked and caught some trout. I’m not one for fishing, I always thought it was boring.

“Fishing is not about how many fish you get, it’s about the sun, lake peacefulness. The fish is just icing on the cake.”

“Wow, I never thought of it that way,” I smiled.

The picnic lunch was subs, chips, and soda with chocolate cheesecake for dessert. I was in heaven. He even brought the pickles. Kudos to him. I thought the date was going well. But some of the topics got sentimental and he started crying. Crying. I know I asked for sensitive but this was ridiculous.

I went home frustrated. I stomped into the living room and plopped down on the couch next to my mom.

Mama, Kathleena, the specialist didn’t work out. Three men, three failures. And if you say something condescending like my standards are too high or strict, I will lose it.”

“No, I was going to say three things. One, you learned what you don’t want, meaning searching for one trait in a man won’t work. It will drive you mad. Secondly, you learned that you won’t compromise on your non-negotiables. You see your man has to be it without any changes. And thirdly, you had some reservations about the men or the date and you went anyway. You are not one to give up control.”

I went home to my apartment and changed my list. Aside from the non-negotiables like God, children… I wanted a man who had a good sense of humor, not a slob but not a neat freak, and sensitive but not to extremes.

As I sat home in my clean apartment courtesy of Ken, I realized my perfect man was me. 

“Kathleena!” I guess I need the specialist after all.