bad teeth.

i'm going to set the scene:

i'm at work.

with my co-workers, who care about me.

and know my business.

all of it.

it's post-lunch hour.

we're gathered 'round, eating ice cream sandwiches to celebrate a co-worker's birthday.

someone says something about their brother-in-law. single. 28. freshly graduated from law school. i joke:

"my parents will pay you if we achieve makeout status"

{although, that's not a joke.}

he says, "so will his."

co-worker monique gets his vital stats and heads back to her desk to glean everything she can from facebook. five minutes go by and i assume she's on the phone with my mom, reminding her to pencil the wedding date in her calendar.

nervously, i spy on mo's screen.

instantly, i'm not attracted.

and that's all that matters.

there are a lot of fishing poles in his profile pics album.

a picture of, what i can only assume is a field trip to the local aviary, with a flock of parrots surrounding him. you know, one perched on his hand. another on his shoulder. and one on his head.

{let's all remind ourselves. WE CHOOSE the photos in our facebook albums. they're not automatically uploaded. we put our best foot forward - our best representative self.}

and then there's a picture of the old "don't squeeze the charmin" guy, who i'm also assuming was placed there on "doppleganger week".

i mean, i don't really need to go into any more. just believe me when i say - i wasn't attracted. he's not my type.

we're all entitled to have a type.

and he wasn't mine.

i back away slowly so as not to offend my co-worker, in case he is capable of being offended by my disinterest.

when i get back to my desk, an instant message window pops up.

g: "david looks nice."

a: inorite? NICE. i'm sure he's very kind, too.

g: what's wrong with the guy?

a: he's not tall, dark, and good to look at all day long.

g: oh seriously.... you're taking that serious?... let me know when tall dark and handsome mr. east coast shows up.

a: oh, seriously.... you're taking me serious?... let me know when you can take a joke.

g: HIGH BAR. that's all i need to say.

a: i don't know how many times i need to go the rounds with you about this. whenever it evidences itself in my life, you tell me a high bar is more than acceptable. but when i turn my nose at the blond geek from byu with bad teeth and a parrot on his head, you tell me my bar is too high.

g: that's what i needed to know - what your issue was with the dude. now, with that said... OK. cranky!

a: that wasn't cranky, that was honest. AND, he had bad teeth. number one deterrent.

g: word.

a: i don't expect you to invest much time on this, but at least - when you looked at the guy, you didn't think "aubry's type" did you?

g: i did cringe at the teeth.

a: there are a few givens in the world. nice being one of them. nice TEETH being the other.

*********

now, i have more thoughts on nice.

when i say nice isn't good enough, that doesn't mean i want a jerk

{although, invariably, that's what i get}

i'm saying, i consider "nice" as a baseline quality.

i stand firm by my word that the man of my dreams should be more than nice.

it's not too much to ask.

there are people out there who are just "nice" - you know the ones.

the ones who don't have anything else going for them.

{like the guy we just let go from work. he wasn't performing. "but he sure was a nice guy."}

i don't want those ones.

i don't mean to sound insensitive. but as ms. mighty girl says, "nice is the least interesting thing someone can say about you."

i would happily accept nice for the rest of my life.
in conjunction with attractive, ambitious, and well versed in his current events.