Look at me, I’ve matured. It’s not all about hair, or style, or talent, for me anymore. What really gets me hot and bothered these days is intellect. All my partner needs to do to get me in the mood is plop down her New Yorker tote on our credenza and it’s game time. She doesn’t even need to tell me about the books she just checked out of the library, the tote is enough for me.
You see, I’m something of an academic. I’m out here at this farmers market, putting heirloom tomatoes in her tote, desperately trying to conceal my erection, and people are seeing us and thinking “This a man who respects a woman’s intellect. She probably makes more than him. But not in a sad ‘he hasn’t got back on his feet and owns a gaming chair’ way.” Like a “She just makes more than him, what of it?” way. I guess I’m just a little deeper than the average guy.
I saw the signs of my atypical sexuality early on. It just didn’t feel right I clicked the “straight” category on Hinge, when I always order oat milk and I drive a Subaru. One day, I finally realized I had only been attracted to people based on their Letterboxd Top 4 and their proximity to my apartment. I knew I was different; more interesting; more mysterious. Finally, now that there’s a word for people like me, I don’t have to hide who am.
When you’re not a shallow person, like me, people notice. I’m seen as a person with an advanced sense of humor. I’m someone who understands Shouts and Murmurs, but smart enough to not actually laugh audibly at something. What I do instead is say ‘that’s funny’ out loud.
If there’s anything I love more than promotional merch, it’s promotional merch that makes people think I’m dating a doctor, or maybe a teacher, or maybe even a student. Someone who reads. Or at least, someone who aspires to read. People who know what “speculative fiction” means and don’t and steal olives from Whole Foods by putting them in their cargo shorts and praying the person at self-checkout doesn’t notice how wet their shorts are.
I’m a guy who dates someone who believes in print media. Me, a renaissance man, a bibliophile if you will, a true sapiosexual.