As I drove down the street the other day I passed a construction crew marring up a perfectly good section of the road and thought back to a short story I’d recently read. In it a construction crew had a really sexy guy on it who tended to work shirtless when the afternoon turned hot, damn near stopping traffic in the busy intersection. That made me wonder, what would life be like if we lived in a “romance novel” world? I took a look around and considered all of the changes that would entail and decided it might not be so bad after all.
Of course it entirely depends on which author we’re going with. The paranormals would have hot alpha males strutting around, running the show and keeping the little ladies at home. Despite the views of most fiercely independent heroines, I don’t think that is necessarily a bad thing. I could sure as hell go for some down time where my man sets me on a pedestal, cooks dinner and massages my feet, all while shirtless and keeping his thick, shoulder-length locks back in a neat plait. I’m even willing to overlook a growl or two at any other male who wanders too close or has the audacity to look my way. And after months of sitting around eating bonbons from his work-roughened hands during his free time from whatever insanely well-paying job he has, if I gain a few pounds, or fifty, that’s okay. My figure will be more womanly and he’ll love my curves as my hips take on a child-rearing form.
Now if we go with a straight contemporary world, the men will be smart and savvy. They will know when to let their women show independence while still opening every door and holding out every chair we encounter. I’ll be able trade dirty jokes with my man at intimately appropriate times without worry that he’ll take it the wrong way. He’ll always remember to put the toilet seat down, be ready to go shopping at a moment's notice and love long picnics in the park after a stroll through an art gallery. He’ll be emotionally there for me once I delve into his past and discover the abuse or neglect he’s worked so hard to hide. Once we get over that obstacle, nothing will stand in the way of our love. Not even Monday night football.
If I had to pick just one I think erotic might be the way to go. What red-blooded woman can resist a man who not only likes to strip his clothes off at a moment's notice, but looks damn good doing it too? Never mind that we just met five minutes ago in a stopped elevator, dingy bar or grocery store aisle. He always has a condom ready for impromptu sex, so who am I to complain? There’s hardly ever any baggage for him. Every now and again an old girlfriend, angry mom or bitter coworker might show up, but that’s all right. So long as we can find a flat surface, vertical or horizontal, to get it on we’re A-okay. His scars, if he has any, are only skin deep and add an air of danger to his overall persona. He’s always impeccably groomed, has the right amount of body hair and never passes gas. Overall, the perfect male specimen.
I think perhaps its better that life isn’t too much like a romance novel. For one, if my man ever came home from a hard day at work and insisted on making dinner while I sat and ate chocolate my head would explode. I’d assume he felt guilty for something and commence questioning him until he gave in and confessed. If vampires existed and were really sexy my anemia would kick in full force. If sex was all I really had to do all day the laundry would never get done. Besides, if that was real life what the heck would we read?
*Make reading a guilty pleasure…*