her perfect man to me,
as we sit
in the food court at the mall
eating
really bad food,
and drinking orange
colored drinks.
she has a pretzel
and i have a Cinnabon.
my perfect man,
she says,
is very very handsome
and smart.
street smart too,
not just magazine or tv
smart.
not married too many times
and not married now
would be my preference,
but not a deal breaker.
strong
with blue eyes, but not crossed.
hate that.
no stutterers, please.
nice hair too.
it would be nice if he
had his own
place and not living in
his mother's basement anymore.
he can't hit me when he's mad,
or do hard drugs.
he has to have a car too,
that's a must.
if he knows how to
change a lightbulb that's a plus.
hopefully no STDs. or
with most of them in remission,
and has a job
of some sort.
oh, and i just love a lot of tattoos.
that's my list, she says.
can i have a bite of that
and lick
the icing of the wrapper?
sure.
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