I’ve heard it my whole life: ‘Men only want one thing from women.’
For the longest time I’ve struggled over my one thing would be. One morning I stumped on a street corner and accosted forty-seven women in an informal poll as to what the one thing men should want is. It came out a tie between “sex” and “leaving me alone.”
Sex can’t be it: I can’t imagine wanting sexual intercourse with even a quarter of the women I’ve met.
And wanting all women to simply go away? That's isolationist. I wouldn’t put stock in either.
For a while I thought it was stock. Not a bad idea, to want every woman you met to fork over shares of a Fortune 500 company.
I followed that premise and settled that the one I want from women is a million dollars. How happy I’d be, how positively feminist I’d become, if all females handed over a million dollars upon proposition. Unreasonable to expect them all to keep that kind of cash on them, but why lower my standards? It’d compromise the one thing I get to want from them.