Made Of Fail Part Four: I'm Not The Only One

Last time out I discussed the perception by some people that when it comes to women I’m too picky.
While I don’t think this perception reflects reality, even if it were true, and I were to suddenly change my discriminating ways, it really wouldn’t solve the problem of me being made of fail, as it fails to take one fact into account: I’m not the only one.
The belief that I could suddenly be made of something other than fail if I were to stop being so picky is dependent (at least in part) on the notion that women are not picky, and exercise no discernment whatsoever when it comes to choosing a potential mate, simply latching on to whatever is available.
I would posit that this is not the case, and, in fact, would respond with a derisive “Ha!” to anyone who suggested that it actually is the way of things.
Everyone, male and female, beautiful and otherwise, has some kind of set of standards or a wish list for potential mates. Even women who pick the worst kind of guys likely do so not because they just grabbed whatever was available, but because said guys match up with at least some items on their potential mate wish lists.
Everyone holds out at least a little bit of hope that someday that person who matches the wish list wish for wish will come along, but barring that, most people will settle for someone who at least hits the high points.



While I’ve never signed up for a paid membership, I have, over the years, checked out some of the online dating sites. As they say, “it’s okay to look.”
The fact that I’ve never been willing to shell out the money isn’t due to the fact that I’ve never seen anyone out there who appealed to me, it’s because, on reading the profiles of the people who did, I’ve generally found that I seldom meet the minimum requirements of even the least appealing (and likely most desperate) or the most open and receptive people I’ve seen.



Now, how strictly these women will hold to their list of requirements is debatable, I suppose, but if they’re taking the trouble to list them, they must be of some importance.
Sure, it’s possible that I could fake my way through some of them, but many of them are pretty much insurmountable obstacles, like height. Being tall seems to rank at the top on the potential mate wish lists of a lot of women.
And I mean a lot. Like percentages in the high 90s.
That’s one I can’t fake.
Could whatever other attractive qualities I may (do?) have make up for my lack of stature? Maybe, but honestly, I seldom see any of the qualities I do possess ranked as high (no pun intended) as height.
Still, the relative value of whatever attractive qualities I do possess is a topic for another day, and the point of this entry is that however picky I may or not be is only one part of the ingredients of the kind of fail of which I am made, and I would submit that the pickiness of others is a much more vital and plentiful ingredient.