At twenties, what I want in a guy is somewhat different.
For a start, I no longer want flowers, gifts or expensive dinners, which I think are totally impractical.
In my opinon, FoodCourt is perfect for a date, and Valentine's Day isn't any special day. All those V-day hassles are just gimmicks created by cunning businessmen to cheat our hard-earned money. I spent my 2005 V-Day dinner in a FoodCourt, in the luxury of air-conditioned space, with a table filled to brim with yummy food, that didn't cost him a cent more than $30. I was happy all the same! We did not have to squeeze for breathing spaces with hundred other couples for the so-called romantic feel, which frankly, wouldn't be romantic at all!
All expensive bouquet-ed flowers wither, and do note that it will NeveR fail Not to. Boo-hoo.. Wouldn't you cry now if you see your 50-dollar note wither?!! And what gifts? I don't remember buying any gift on any so-call special days for Baby and usually vice-versa. We lived happily all the same. In my twenties, I learnt that materialistic satisfaction isn't all that makes a couple happy, and it should not.
Now, I no longer dream to be kissed by a Prince Charming, because I now know that how deceiving looks and riches can be. They may be part of the package that actually hides a demon beneath. Looks will wither with age, and riches *that may or may not even exist in the first place* don't grow by themselves if your Prince Charming is a big-talk-dream-alot-life-waster. A debt-free-down-to-earth guy, who has a purpose and control in life, and whom also brings home a stable income regardless more or less, fits my bill better now.
I no longer yearn to be made a tai-tai. If I am ever dying to be one, I shall make myself one, with my own means. Money really isn't everything, you may earn a lot, but it really doesn't mean anything. I am saying this from my limited experience. Even as someone relatively fresh from school, watching my bank account grow by 4-6K monthly isn't as exciting as the $2.80 Meiji Macadamia Chocolate Baby gets for me once a month.
And did I ever mention I have a great dislike for Not-so-rich-but-act-rich-Richies, Born-with-silver-spoon-Richies and worse still if he's also a Depend-on-daddy-Richie or a Show-off-bad-attitude-spoilt-Richie? What a turn-off! I'm sorry, mom... but save your dreams, I'll never be sold off to a Rich Ass. Next lifetime, perhaps? And don't forget, mom... Rich Asses have their eyes implanted at levels your daughter's height can never reach. Yucks. Save me...
I guess Fairytales now belong to the shelf at that corner of my study room, dusty and dogearred. Maybe I would have another set of guidelines in my thirties... But now at twenties, I seek only stability in my life.
