Many of us are on the hunt for Mr. Perfect these days, and it is a common myth that he actually exists. Where do we find such a man? You won’t really see him drinking it up in a trashy bar; you wouldn’t find him unconscious on the street. So where do we look? Well in response to this I say it comes down to what YOU want out of a man. Perhaps you are this overly social drinker and you were having your beer in the middle of the park whilst all the business workers are enjoying their low fat deli lunches; a gorgeous man resembling something of an Adonis to the majority in the park sits promptly down next to you.
You gaze up for a second, disregarding his hotness, then commence with your improper public drinking. Whilst on the other side of the park 'Miss. I’ve been single two years and I have 11 cats' is checking him out through the clear plastic of her sushi container. Wishing desperately that she was the one next to him not that trashy drunk girl. Then along comes 'Mr. I work at the tattoo parlour and smell like whiskey.' He walks past the girl next to the Adonis and instantly both the tattooist and the drunk are staring inseparably into one another’s eyes. Completely amazing guy next to her - completely trashy guy in front of her. It comes down to her type. For everyone at the park eating their low fat food and all suited to the point of strangulation, he is completely imperfect for their lifestyles. However that girl is the only one in the entire park that wants him more than anyone. Guess she doesn’t have to worry about competition.
So what I’m trying to get at here is, why is Mr. Perfect always closest to Mr/Miss imperfect? And how do we get him? Well, with Mr. Perfect clear in our conscience what’s to say we need to go for him? They always say there are plenty of fish in the sea, but why, of everyone are WE always those small fish in the tiniest of all rockpools? What if we all came ashore once in every while to really get a breath of fresh air? Then will our perceptions change on what we really want? We don’t all really want to drown in this rockpool of solitude. At least let us drown somewhere in the ocean, where there are actually bigger, better fish surrounding us.
This brings me to my final ponder. Why are we always the one chasing after Mr. Perfect? If Mr. Perfect is so perfect shouldn't he be chasing after us? Guess we should settle for Mr. Near Perfect- only once we lower our seemingly high standards of men. But not to the point where we get 'Mr. I work at a tattoo parlour and smell like whiskey'. Unless, ofcourse he's your Mr. Perfect. :)