I am reminded of a story my friend Rob told me. Once he was asked what his ideal woman would be. He jokingly replied, "A 14 year-old, red-headed Asian Catholic school girl."
A year later he was drunk on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras. He looks up across the street and sees a gorgeous red-headed Asian woman, her hair looking natural, not dyed. He points her out to a friend sitting next to him on a bench, and then he staggers over to her.
"Pardon me," he says in the way he has of being hyper eloquent when highly intoxicated, "but I just wanted to make sure, ma'am, is your hair naturally red?"
She smiles to him and nods. He nods back, impressed.
"And, ah, you are Asian, if I am correct, right ma'am?"
"Yes," she says, laughing at how polite he's trying to be.
Rob hums in approval, then nods and staggers back to his friend. He sits down on the bench and says, "She's an Asian red-head alright."
His friend cheers, and tells Rob to go back and talk to her. Rob shrugs, stands up, takes a drink, and weaves his way through the crowd back to her.
"Pardon my interruption again, ma'am," Rob says, "but . . . would you happen to be Catholic?"
"Yes I am," she says. "Um, why?"
Rob chuckles and waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, no reason. Thank you, ma'am."
He weaves his way back through the crowd, and again sits beside his friend. "And she's Catholic," Rob adds.
His friend is amazed at the coincidence, and he reminds Rob of the last criterion of his perfect woman. Rob nods, stands up, and walks casually over to talk to the woman once more.
"Hey," he says, a bit flippantly, dropping his polite act. "Are you fourteen?"
The woman looks to one of her friends in confusion, then shakes her head. "No. . . . I'm twenty-three."
"Ah," Rob says, disappointed. Then, "But wait. That means once you were fourteen, right?"
" . . . yes."
Rob perks up instantly. "Egg salad. Well, happy Mardi Gras."
And he turns and walks away.