Cyber-mating, part 1: Wanted -- Huck Finn with a fauxhawk

I've been doing too much Internet dating lately, and I'll be posting my observations here for at least the next few days. One thing I've noticed, at least among the women, is that many of them list criteria for their mate that are so rigid and unrealistic as to defy reason. The descriptions of the ideal man they're seeking read like the shopping lists of impossibly spoiled suburban mall-aholics.

For example, take this posted set of attributes from a woman who is clearly conscious of its absurdity, as evidenced by her defensive addendum:

This is Who I Want

you to be. between 6' and 6'4". dark hair. fauhawk perhaps, but in a conservative way. green, hazel, or grey eyes. not fat, not skinny, not chiseled but in shape. great sex drive. nice olive complexion but not brown. long eyelashes (Prince). work in finance because you have that edgy gambling personality. emotionally available. have a midwestern boy sense of humor age 27-35. like to party and like to talk. appreciate all things artistic. if you're out there, who would you want me to be?

for those of you who have time to waste with nasty responses because I know what I want...why don't you turn on the news to see what kind of results that attitude brings to humanity.

Does this or does this not read like the ramblings of a schizophrenic? First of all, what the hell is a fauhawk? Is it a toupee in the shape of a mohawk? Something grown in the lab of the Hair Club for Punks? A Native American imposter from a fictitious tribe, like, say, the Indian in the Village People? Let's assume that it is some sort of ersatz punk-rick hairstyle. How, then, can it be "conservative"? Maybe she means that it has a natural look and isn't dyed some day-glo shade of pink. Or possibly it's a removable mohawk that you can ditch before you leave for work at your job at Bear Stearns, or stuff in your desk when your boss comes down the hall. You can send it out to be dry-cleaned. (Wikipedia defines a "fauxhawk" as "essentially a mohawk hairstyle with none of the commitment," which is just about perfect. It goes on: "Hair on the top of the head is combed to resemble a small fan mohawk. The hair on the sides of the head is not shaved, though it might be shorter. These are generally worn by students of schools with restrictive hair codes." Other sources attribute it to metrosexuals. You can't say Gang of 60 isn't educational...)

Moving on, we discover that this woman wants a man who is "not fat, not skinny, not chiseled but in shape." She sounds like a demented Goldilocks. And she wants her man to be olive-complected "but not brown." You know, something to match her walls.

In terms of occupation, her ideal mate should "work in finance because you have that edgy gambling personality." You know, like those rebel accountants and bankers. Hell's Brokers. And like all gamblers, Ms. Diva's dream guy should be "emotionally available."

She wants a "midwestern boy sense of humor." You know, a guy who tricks you into leaning up against a freshly painted white picket fence. A Tom Sawyer type. With a fake mohawk. An edgy commodities trader who chews on a blade of grass while he gauges the fluctuations of the bhat.

And, oh, he has to have a great sex drive and appreciate the arts.

So, to summarize: an olive-skinned, emotionally available, pseudo-punk rocker/gambling sex machine with Prince's eyelashes, Huck Finn's Midwestern innocence and T.S. Eliot's keen aesthetic sense who likes to "party" and to "talk."

Last comes the paranoid disclaimer, as she anticipates a mob of outraged men bombarding her Inbox:

"why don't you turn on the news to see what kind of results that attitude brings to humanity."

Finally, the truth about why we're in Iraq.