Going Against Type

When I was thirteen or so, the first guy I kinda sorta “dated”, the way you do when you’re thirteen or so,haddark hair, was two years older than me, wore a leather jacket, and I have absolutely no doubt eventually rode a motorcycle. Decades later, my mother revealed she took one look at this guy, turned to my father, and said, “we are in serious trouble.”

Yeah. It’s like that.

Turns out, I have a type.

We all have types, that indefinable attribute that draws us to a man. The physical mishmash th...