A Search for Mr. Right

“I can’t tell if I’m being picky or if there’s something wrong with me,” Cherish Muchnik (not her real name) said.

We were talking about what was wrong with her latest beau. At 34, Cherish would like to get married. But not unless she encounters Mr. Rightnik.

Thirty-four is one of those funny marriage points. The discussion of the current Mr. Wrong centered on the fact that he was the kind of guy you marry at 39 but not at 34.

Cherish has never had any trouble attracting men. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that she is tall, slim, gorgeous and well known.

But there is always something a little bit wrong with the guy. Previous rejects, according to Cherish, historically have fallen into five categories:

1. We have great sex, but he has no job.

2. He’s ready for marriage but not for kids.

3. He’s ready for kids but not for marriage.

4. I’m (a) more intelligent or (b) more successful or (c) more aggressive than he is, and he can’t handle it.

5. He’s kind, considerate and . . . short.

THE CURRENT GUY

This month’s poster boy was tall, intelligent (Would you believe Stanford and Princeton?) and wants to get married and have kids. He has a fabulous job as head of a successful software company. Sex is great.

But. . . .

“He has no hip credentials,” complains Cherish. “If only he had taken acid in the ‘60s.”

And. . . .

“He’s weak on popular culture.”

“Cherish,” I suggest, “this isn’t a tryout for ‘Jeopardy.’ Can’t you marry him, then strap him to a Barcalounger and force him to watch ‘Entertainment Tonight’?”

Finally, we come to his ultimate sin. “He has no sense of humor.”

Well, that is important, but I have to comment: “Cherish, you don’t either.”

She admits that’s true, but it’s still a requirement for the man with whom she will share real estate.

The real problem is that Cherish isn’t all that eager to get married. She wants to have kids, but she just spent the day with a friend who actually has kids. “She had to keep doing things for them. We couldn’t talk. It was horrible.”

Cherish’s choice is not unrelated to her age. At 22, a woman will marry anyone to be assured of a reliable roommate. At 29, a woman will marry any reasonable man so she can still say she married in her 20s. But the early 30s are a picky time. If a woman has waited that long, why settle for anything less than Senor Perfecto?

Thirty-nine is a desperate year. Most women view it as the last chance to still try for a baby. What they are looking for is no longer the ideal man but a reasonable sperm donor. Good teeth begin to look very good. Knowledge of the Rolling Stones no longer matters.

After 40, women become extremely picky again. There is the sense that if one can make it this far alone, why risk everything on a snorer. Or someone who is pop-culturally illiterate.

MOTHER’S ADVICE

Cherish says, “My mother suggests maybe I should actually get to know a guy before I jump into bed with him.”

“There’s something to it,” I agree. “Why not give it a try?”

“But with Lucien, I did wait,” she insists.

“What goes for waiting these days?”

“We didn’t sleep together until the second--maybe the third--date.”

And how, I wonder, did the experiment go? “What happened on the third date?”

“Like I said,” sighs Cherish, “he wasn’t funny.”

Poor Lucien. There’s just no pleasing a 34-year-old woman.