Forget You Jimmy Choo!

I sat in the airport for five lovely hours while mechanics tried to jack a starting valve off another plane to put it onto ours. Two women sat beside me, and spent quite a bit of time talking romance.

My business book wasn’t nearly as interesting as their conversation, so I listened in. Here’s how they defined romance:

  • I want fresh flowers, and I want to be surprised by them. Red or white roses in a box with long stems? Perfect!
  • I wish my boyfriend would draw a bubble bath for me and have candles around the tub with Champagne and strawberries that he would feed me.
  • I’d love for my husband to massage my feet and then surprise me with a new pair of Jimmy Choo shoes.

As I eavesdropped, I noticed two things. First of all, younger women have based their romantic expectations on “Sex and the City” reruns. This is providing clich├ęd requests while setting them up for extreme disappointment.

Secondly, if this is how most women feel, I feel totally disconnected from the female race. I do not like long-stemmed roses. I don’t know what to do with them, and they stink. Then they die.

I hate bubble baths. I don’t like sitting in water that’s filled with my dirt. And I don’t think it’s a good place to eat. You have to watch your stomach fold over as your reach for the strawberry, and your food can drop in the water. And if my husband was to feed me I’d force him to wear a blindfold, which would make the feeding difficult.

The foot massage I’m down with, but Jimmy Choo shoes? Stiletto heels? This is like requesting slow torture as your spine slowly slips out of alignment and the balls of your feet break.

FYI for my hubby, here’s my definition of romance:

  • I want a clean kitchen. I mean countertops, oven, microwave and refrigerator all sparkling.
  • I’d like to watch a football game without any interruptions, and have nice hot snacks provided.
  • I want my husband to massage my ego by laughing at my jokes and telling me how he’s attracted to me because of my vast intelligence.

There, that’s my list. Not a Jimmy Choo or rose in the whole bunch. What about you? How do you define romance?

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