12
LEAH
When I was twenty and freshly broken up from the third i***t in a row that I’d dated—no, I didn’t get a set of steak knives, although if I had, I’d probably be in jail right now—I’d opened a bottle of wine and written down the attributes my ideal man would have. I still had that list saved on my phone. I’d considered using it as my screen saver, but ultimately, I decided that I didn’t need to die from embarrassment at such a young age.
Anyhow, that list had twelve items.
Enough money that he doesn’t need to borrow mine.
Owns an apartment (preferably) or at least a car.
Excellent personal hygiene.
Stays in shape, but not like a bodybuilder.
Dresses well.
Not besties with his mom.
Wears shoes outdoors at all times (except on the beach).
Closes mouth when chewing.
Good tas
