Having found what she’s looking for, she’s tempted to stay, but something propels her to the sixth floor, where the sign reads:
FLOOR 6—YOU ARE VISITOR 42,215,602 TO THIS FLOOR. THERE ARE NO MEN ON THIS FLOOR. THIS FLOOR ONLY EXISTS TO PROVE THAT WOMEN ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO PLEASE. THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING AT THE HUSBAND STORE.
PLEASE NOTE:
To avoid gender bias charges, the store’s owner opened a Wife Store right across the street.
The first floor has wives who Love Sex.
The second floor has wives who Love Sex and Are Kind.
The third floor has wives who Love Sex, Are Kind, and Like Sports.
The fourth, fifth, and sixth floors have never been visited.
—My version of an old joke about choosing a husband
Okay, here they are. The qualities, off the top my head and in no particular order, that would be on my shopping list if I visited a Husband Store.
• Intelligent
• Kind
• Extremely funny
• Curious
• Loves kids
• Financially stable
• Emotionally stable
• Sexy
• Romantic
• Passionate
• Compassionate
• Irreverent
• Intuitive
• Generous
• Same religion but not too religious
• Optimistic but not naive
• Ambitious but not a workaholic
• Talented but humble
• Warm but not clingy
• Grounded but not boring
• Soulful but not new-agey
• Vulnerable but not weak
• Quirky but not weird
• Free-spirited but responsible
• Charismatic but genuine
• Strong but sensitive
• Athletic but not a sports nut
• Open-minded but has conviction
• Decisive but not bossy
• Mature but not old
• Creative but not an artist
• Supportive of my dreams and goals
• Has a sense of wonderment about the world
• Is close to my age (shares my cultural references)
• Good listener and communicator
• Flexible and can compromise
• Sophisticated—well-educated, well-traveled, has been around
• Over 5’10” but under 6’0”
• Has a full head of hair (wavy and dark would be nice—no blonds)
• Has shared political views
• Has shared values
• Is not into sci-fi or comic books
• Has good taste/sense of aesthetics
• Health-conscious and physically fit
• Cares about the community at large
• Cares about animals
• Competent
• Handy around the house
• Cooks
• Likes the outdoors (hiking, biking, Rollerblading)
• Likes my friends (and I like his)
• Not moody
• Trustworthy
• Is a team player
• Is literary and enjoys wordplay
• Is math- or science-oriented
• Likes discussing (but not arguing about) politics and world events
• Stylish
• Stimulating
• Not a slob—respectful of our living space
• Is madly in love with me
Actually, this isn’t my current list. This is what I started off with when I sat down to write this book. I’d never made a “list” before, but a married friend put me up to it. I told her I didn’t have a list, and she insisted I did, even if it only existed in my head.
“I can’t quantify what I’m looking for,” I said. “I always just fell in love.”
But she was right: It took me all of three minutes to give a detailed description of my ideal guy. Even if I’d never written a list, I clearly kept a mental file. Then she took it a step further: Hone down the list to make it more realistic.
I gave it a try. I crossed off some easy items—he doesn’t have to know how to cook (besides, he could always learn); if he’s 5’7” instead of 5’10", I could live with that. But even as I eliminated some qualities, I found it hard to get rid of most entirely. Maybe I could compromise on “funny,” but where do you draw the line between a guy whose banter makes your heart race and one whose sense of humor merely makes you smile? On a sliding scale, how much passion would he need to be considered “passionate”?
There were so many variables. In the past, I dated a freelance artist, only to say that next time I wanted someone financially stable. Then I dated a doctor, but we didn’t connect creatively. Finding a financially stable artist or a doctor who wrote novels in his spare time wasn’t impossible—but pretty rare. And combine that with all the other characteristics I wanted, not to mention “chemistry,” and suddenly the mystery of why I was still single was solved.
Maybe the man I was looking for on paper simply didn’t exist. And maybe, as my friend suggested, some of these qualities weren’t that important when it came to a happy marriage anyway.
Yikes. What if she was right? Had I overlooked men who might have turned out to be great husbands because I was drawn to an instant spark and a checklist instead of a solid life partner?
Of course, I wasn’t completely clueless. By the time I hit 30, I knew that nobody was perfect (including me) and that whoever I married would be a flawed human being like the rest of us. I wasn’t expecting perfection so much as intense connection. I also knew that none of that heady first-blush excitement guaranteed everlasting love, but I felt that without this initial launching pad, romance would never get off the ground. As far as I was concerned, there was no point in going on a second date if there wasn’t a strong attraction on the first.
So, at least in the beginning of a relationship, I expected to be dazzled (even if that meant being so distracted by my object of affection that I nearly lost my job and risked my very livelihood). I expected to “just know” that he was The One (even if it often happened that a year later, I’d “just know” that I wanted to break up). I expected to feel some sort of divine connection (even if that meant being in a constant state of nausea and having an obsessive need to check