900 Words On The Problem
Anyone who knows me in real life, knows the lists of turn-offs I come up with and the complaints I voice about women are not actual grounds for checking her off my list. I’m flexible. So what if a fine woman enjoys spitting hard core rap lyrics, eats a Chipotle burrito, or always puts LOL in her FB status messages? If I dig her, I dig her. She’s not coming off the list just because of something so trivial, I just like to discuss the little things because we don’t discuss details enough.
So what’s the problem? If I’m not as picky as it seems, why can’t I settle on one woman?
Today, I answer this question with a bold, sweeping theory that may or may not surprise some, but hopefully will clear things up for others. This is my line of logic as to why it’s hard for men to settle down. It goes with me to the grave.
I am not picky enough and I know a lot of good women.
This is what my Pop’s used to describe to me as good problems, like a stomach ache from too much ice cream. It’s what I like to call an embarrassment of riches. The reason I complain is not because I can’t find a good woman to be with, but because I know more than one good woman. Jay-Z once said he has 99 problems but a b*tch ain’t one, but what were those 99 problems? I believe they were 99 good women.
There are a lot of good women out there, women who are good in a variety of ways. Yes woman, you’re great in bed, but so is this other woman I know. Yes woman, you are a beast in the kitchen, but so is this other woman I know. Yes woman, you’re smart and accomplished in your career, but so is the other woman I know.
While women think their competition is with these fast girls who are willing to give it up to a man so soon, men like me who have a hard time settling down know better. Good women are in competition with other good women. I’m not racking my brain, choosing between the woman who took good care of me when I was sick and the woman who let me go home with her the same night we met. My pre-occupation usually lies between the woman who took good care of me when I was sick and the other woman who took good care of me when I was sick. So when I start judging women based on their chicken soup recipes, don’t be mad at me. I have to make a decision somehow.
If there’s one thing I have learned over the years, good women are universal, and good men are relative. I know a few good men and a lot of good women, and most men I know are dealing with the same circumstances. Look in any man’s phone book. He probably has a handful other male phone numbers, and a garbage bag full of female phone numbers, and while a few of those females may have been one-offs, most of them probably are not. Most of those phone numbers are a direct line to some woman who made some sort of impact on him. So even after I have eliminated the girls I will never call again, there’s still more than one girl with whom I would like to stay in touch, and that, my friends, is really the issue.
There’s more than one good woman.
There’s always more than one good woman, and once there’s two, we officially have a situation on our hands. For every chicken, there’s steak, for every steak, there’s shrimp, for every shrimp, there’s foie gras. I don’t mean to say women are food, so don’t jump all over me about objectifying women here. I’m making a point, which is this: This world men live in is like Sizzler. Sure there are items on the menu, but who went to Sizzler for the menu items? We all went because of the buffet and the options it provided, and when I think about it, maybe that’s my problem. Instead of making a tough decision, a man like me goes for the buffet. Maybe, I’m not picky enough.
The fact is, men are simple, and because we are simple, it broadens our choices, making it more difficult to settle on one woman. And while I may not have a solution to this problem, allow me to attempt to offer up at least one for men and one for women.
I, a man, will start being more picky and selective about the women I date. I will write down a mile-long check list of things I want in a woman, and raise my standards to damn near impossible heights so that only one woman can reach them.
In exchange, I would like to see more women stop touting their good woman credentials around like they received a black belt when in reality, they’re more like white belts. Damn near every woman is a good woman. Hell, a good woman’s friend is a good woman (that’s why they’re friends, right?). So ladies, stop declaring how good you are. It’s not working because we already know other good women. What might work instead is being your man’s woman. Your move, ladies.
