Takes All Kinds

In my head, this is who I see - towering, tanned redhead, with dreadlocks and a Scottish accent. Wearing a kilt. Or, a Robbie Williams, in a kilt. Yes, there is no accounting for taste and it takes all kinds of heads to get all kinds of jollies. But that's what he looks like.

A man who will help random little old ladies with their grocery shopping, play with their dogs. Someone who will flirt my mother into a good mood and know how to mix a great marguerita. Who will hold the door open even though I am perfectly able, and hold his alcohol. Wash up. Someone who knows the words to "Take A Chance" and the secret dance that goes with it. Someone honest, kind, comfortable in his own skin. Someone willing to take chances, be open-minded.

Someone who knows the meaning of honourable and knows that chicken in a bucket is still okay if the conversation is good. Someone with an opinion but who knows that it takes all kinds.

Someone who knows that its okay to be vulnerable, to be crazy in love, to not understand, where to draw the line. Someone who will let me know where we stand. Not cheat. Honour, trust and love. Someone with a basic respect for everything, everyone and himself.

A man who will respect my independence but kick my tough-guy act out the door and just wrap his arms around me when I need him to. Someone brave, non-judgmental, willing to chain himself to a tree if the cause is right. Someone who cares, embraces change.

Someone who is looking out for more than just himself and little more. Someone who can laugh and cry... but not too often. Someone who won't stand shit. Knows that everything going wrong is not PMS-related. Will write me odes, not mention I need to shave.

Someone who will think I am a goddess, even in my big flowery granny panties. A gentleman. Someone who believes in happy endings. A real man.

All right, long wish-lists aside, this is the deal. A lot of women don't really think there is any one kind of 'new-age' sexy man around. There is no one perfect man. Selfish jerks aside, they're all kinda nifty. Nope, no new-age sexy... Just the classic. The renaissance man. Honest, kind, caring, open to change, with an unshakable code of honour. Darcy (Jane Austen's and Bridget Jones'), Fonzie. Chuck Norris? All my youth's imaginary summer-loves fitted the bill.

But what it comes down to is this. The whole idea of little boys - gross, scabby little boys - collecting slugs, eating boogers, burping at will, smelling of cheese and drawing moustaches on Barbies in permanent marker... Well, suddenly, older, responsible, kind, looking into your eyes, holding hands, actually seeing you, liking you, knowing you don't have cooties... sounds great! Being there, looking good, being warm. And smelling really nice. Very nice. Very sexy.