Ticking my boxes
Choices, choices, choices.
We all have favourites. Be it food, clothes, designer labels, airlines, hotels……and of course
Men!
Men, glorious men. Yup!
I have been out with umpteen men over the years and have developed types. Naturally. Am sure we all do. Do you? Maybe it is a Father thing. All little girls want a man like Daddy? I guess I do… a father figure? Someone to look up to..someone we love & respect?
My earliest flings were with Spaniards & Italians. From trips to Mallorca when I was 17, then summer school in Nice. Follow up trips to Italy to meet up with cute Italians I met in Nice…..one guy in Mallorca was Jaime, 34 – twice my age ( bad start) and then a cuter 17 year old who was the spit of Andrew Ridgley from Wham. When you are 17 and naive that was pretty attractive!
At 19 I met the *love* ( supposedly) of my life. Possibly the man I should have married. But life does not always work out that way.
H, a public school boy. Not gorgeous to look at and 25 years on he is less so BUT he was my “type”. I remember seeing him for the first time. It clicked. Huge attraction. I just knew. He was well-spoken, well dressed, wealthy parents. I never slept with him ( despite his attempts. Sigh) I was a *nice* girl and did not put it around. THEN! Biggest regret of my life as I recently discovered when we met up again & had a thing before he went on to marry wife no 2. We were all over each other. It was still there. Attraction NEVER dies. He was still my “type”. After school & Uni he went into the City and became an investment banker -lives in Notting Hill, has pots of money, good brain, lovely house. Quite tall, quite porky. But I like porky, big men. I find it sexy. Big thighs!! Not just mine. H was not stunning but that does not matter. Attraction is not about looks. It is chemical. Him or George Clooney. I’d choose him. So, he was my type and thus began a pattern.
In my 20s I lived in Spain & Switzerland as part of my degree and had what my best friend called ” Spanish waiter syndrome” usually small guys, dark, sexy….not necessarily waiters ( though I had a few) … Spanish waiters….Portuguese waiters…..Spanish students, Italian students, random men I pulled in bars in South Ken, (older!) Spanish dodgy business men I pulled in Costa Dorada……gorgeous, sexy Portuguese management consultants in dark, smoky West End clubs…….they were there and like moths to a flame I went back for more & more.
In my 30s I grew up a bit and reverted to type. Back to my bankers. And that more or less stuck for the last 15 years. Generally public school boys, Oxford and then into the City, well cut suits, cut glass accents, houses in Holland Park or Fulham and weekends in the country. One I met in 1998 and we are still in touch. He is blonde, brown eyed, rich, clever, well-spoken. Daddy was in finance, so was his brother. His sister is blonde & beautiful and wears Boden and has beautiful children. Lives in Wandsworth. He dives, he skies, lives in Fulham, drives a BMW, big house – Bang & Olufsen stereo, Dualit toaster, Mont Blanc Meisterstuck. You get the idea! He got engaged in 2001 and so did I. Coincidence? No idea.
I was back onto my small men. This time an Algerian self made man. Small, very dark, massively sexy & yes, not short of the £££.
It did not work and fast forward a few months I had a fling with a Russian mafioso ( type? not sure) 6″2, blonde, blue eyed.
Then there was another. Reverting back to type. This one dominated my life for the next 6 years. My Mr Big . About 6ft, rugby player’s body, investment banker, plummy, rich, sexy as hell. Skier, shooter, cigar smoker. All boxes were ticked. Totally. One snag – ok, he was married but I thought I had a chance. Tee hee!
Then I was onto 20 year old Pakistani students, young guys of 25..more Arabs….English men…..
And then.
Then.
I discovered TBW.
I had tried Match, Kindred Spirits. Had a few dates, had some good times. Nick, a retired ( at 43!) banker. Tall, blonde, loaded. Ex wife issues. Roberto, a hot Sicilian ( banker) sorry – is this getting tedious? Great sex but he a real bastard. Another Italian. Nice enough . But they did not click. Something was always missing. I was still in lust with Big. Every man I met I compared to him. I had my check list out. Tick, tick , tick. Not enough boxes were being ticked.
TBW. Well, well, this was new. Slightly different. I knew what I was looking for. Or did I? So many messages, winks. No one really did it for me. There was always an excuse to discount a guy. I was too judgmental. Too quick. Too dismissive. I made dates. I cancelled dates.
And then something funny happened and, my God, am I GLAD it happened. Why ? you may ask. Well, I saw his photos. I read his profile. I definitely did not like the photos. Not my type. Screamingly NOT. But he started to message me. I loved the way he wrote. It was never smarmy, never sexy. It was respectful. Intelligent. Polite. Complimentary. Chatty. It hit my spot. I was keen. Yes! There was something going on here. Chemistry he called it. He felt it and said it. I felt it too but did not say it. We had not met. Were we deluding ourselves? A week or so ensued of e-mails and some flirty texts, then we hooked up. I was on tenterhooks. The second he walked into the bar I could relax. I fancied him. Of course he was so much better looking than his pictures. Most people from TBW are. Thank the Lord. We flirted, we drank. I made my move. We went home. The next day. Arghhhh.
Crucial. Would I hear from him again? Being a modern women I messaged him, thanked him for a lovely night and told him how very very sexy he was. He replied. We are still together and I have not looked back. The irony?
Well, girls, ( and this applies to men too) I would say never EVER discount anyone because they do not match your type. This man is nothing like the men I have dated. He is slim, he did not go to private school, he does not ski or shoot or live in Fulham, he has no money. But we get on. We click. We laugh. And I have not been happier in a LONG time. He ticks ALL my boxes. Who the hell would have thought? Thank you TBW!
By SG
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