Why I Like Boys with Glasses

  I like to consider myself an equal opportunity employer when it comes to interviewing romantic others. I don’t have a particular preference for a certain race or tribe. I think that variety is the spice of life. Gosh, that’s a horrible saying. It implies that life is some sort of bland soup filled with celery. Gross. Vanity also doesn’t play a huge factor in someone’s attractiveness for me. I typically like raven haired boys, but give me a redhead or a swagged out blonde and I’m likely to jump ship. The only thing that I tend to be a stickler for is height, because my dominating matriarch instilled in my head that I should never date a short boy. She equated short men to be kin to killers of babies. Now while it’s strange to believe, her indoctrination has settled somewhere deep in my psyche that even if I find someone to be attractive sitting down, that appeal is soon dissipates when they stand up and can’t pass my pelvis (Although Peter Dinklage, see this post, does have a certain something that makes him impervious to the aforementioned rule). Regardless if the man is the hottest man on earth or the dorkiest doofus in Brooklyn, the one thing that makes me weak in the knees is a stud with spectacles.

    Queer? Absolutely. I completely acknowledge this. Where did this attraction arise from? Where else, but my mother. As a little girl, my mother prepared me for the world of dating by schooling me on what to look for in a man. Now while my mother may not be an expert in courting, because she’s only dated one man in her entire life, she is still with that one man (My parents have been together for over 30 years). Her requirements were both a man of admirable height (My Dad’s a respectable 6’2) and a man with a superior IQ (My Dad is one of the smartest people I know. Fluent in several languages and can understand any obscure concept. Okay, it sounds like a bragging. I am). As long as my romantic partner fulfills those two requisites, I should be happy, according to mi madre.
       I know some of you reading this will find it hard to believe. Why should intellect and height have anything to do with the success of a union. Astrology probably should be more likely to provide ideal outcomes. I would agree with you, but after spending my entire life living in New York City, where the divorce rates are higher than the heels, I tend to seek out Mama Killa instead of outside sources.
          So my entire youth was spent looking longingly at lanky boys reading during recess, hoping that they would soon outgrow me. I have never been attracted to the high school jock, captain of the football team. Give me a Mathlete any day and I’ll purr like a brand new beemer. Since I was a science geek (and still am) and I began to see a distinct correlation between boys with glasses and their intelligence. They seem to go hand in hand. Is it true that boys with glasses tend to be smarter than boys without? No, I can’t prove this. But boys who choose to wear glasses and opposed to boys who prefer contacts, want to appear smarter, more cerebral. So if it’s important to a man to appear smart, then he will start to act on that need and seek out ways to make himself smarter. It’s a beautiful lie.
          Am I attracted to every boy with glasses? No. There are still other factors at play. But it is a known fact that if I see a man without glasses and I think he’s “okay looking”, the same man can pass me ten minutes later, wearing glasses, and I’ll shout “Who is that hot tamale?” It’s a game changer. Isn’t that sad?
        I don’t care if you’re judging me. I think there are worse things to be in love with, such as bad boys, men with anger issues, and guys with motorcycles. Leave me be with my illogical ways and a hottie with some horn-rimmed specs.