The Girl With The Big, Gently Bouncing Frontal LobesA woman I met on this site suggested I write a bit more. I am a writer, after all. And yet, for the most part, I haven't written more than one or two stories on EP.
Why? Call me cynical, but the caliber of intellect on EP (admittedly, as evidenced by the questions section) has not inspired me to believe that a thoughtful, literate article on my innermost thoughts would be received by an audience that, quite frankly, had any idea what to do with it.
In short, I haven't been especially inspired to write for an audience that composes questions like "Why do you Said somfing at Xmas dinner wuz tru but nobody talking now like WTF??"
And yet here I am, writing about why I love intelligent women. Why? Because of the aforementioned intelligent new female friend that I met here. Granted, intelligence is not her only asset, but I will say this: if I look at a woman, like everything else about her, and then discover that all she brings to the party is looks and a giggle, I will be bored almost instantaneously.
It's the librarian fantasy, perhaps. You know the one: the sexy but demure smart girl, looking to be rescued, perhaps even against her will, from the constrictions of her rational mind. The reason that is such a sexy fantasy (for a guy like me, at least) is that that woman is so, so rare. She is, in fact, almost (but not quite) as rare as the intelligent, attractive, respectable but still slightly untamed male.
Or looked at from another angle, the intelligent woman is rare because modern culture has made her an anachronism. Ask any movie, any song, any TV show-- women get ahead by having boobalas and creatively adjustable morals, not by being the best at anything involving brain cells or a rapier wit.
Either way, the woman who combines both intelligence and physical charm (amorphous as that might be) is as rare as a blue diamond, and valuable for that very reason, at least to a certain kind of man.
But more than that: the intelligent woman is doubly attractive because she represents a unique, beguiling challenge: one cannot simply impress her with a set of wheels and a cheap line about sunsets in Italy. The intelligent woman finds such lines as transparent, cheap and tacky as a pair of Fredrick's of Hollywood edible panties.
A stupid woman, no matter how physically bewitching, is the equivalent of a bowl of Lucky Charms. Cheap, easy to find, and not particular filling. Also, she has a tendency to rot your metaphorical teeth.
A smart woman is a five course meal, prepared by an expert chef, gained only by getting the right reservation, showing the right amount of class and patience, and basically being a better sort of man to begin with.
The challenge of the intelligent woman is the thing that makes her so very, very enchanting: the requirement that before a man gets into her pants, he has to get into her mind, and then into her heart. And each step of that journey adds flavor, depth, intensity, and finally (and undeniably) a level of holistic intimacy that surpasses anything else.
So bring on the intelligent, smart, witty women. They may be all-too-rare, but that's all right. If there were more they would just be annoyed at how relatively fewer smart, worthwhile men there are.
And I am happy to have as many of them in my personal company as humanly possible.