Or, shock horror, you can improve your personality; be a pleasant person for pleasantness sake. If you only fake pleasantries to get into her pants, you are not being pleasant. You are being devious, conniving and sneaky. You, dolt, are a Poor Guy.
Pro-tip, dolt; women are individuals and all like different looks, different heights, different beards. There is no uniform scale that all women judge men against.
Sure, my husband is tall, 192 centimeters. But what I found most irresistible about him at first, was the way his slim legs looked in the black pants he always wore. Funny thing though, 31 years on, he doesn't have those slim legs any more. They are both more muscled and a bit fatter. What I like best now is him coming to get me at work on a Monday in darkest coldest January, with the bike-holder on the car tow-bar, so he can bring my bike back home too, when the roads are too icy and slippery to get home safely, and there's a howling wind threatening to push me and the bike into a ditch. What's more, he had just came home from a grueling week-long journey to China, had a bad cold and was probably about to enter his beloved sauna for a long-awaited favorite relaxation when I called. But he postponed that, and came out into the cold and the icy wind, for me. I don't care about "heightmogs or T faces, or SMV's. I love his heart with all of my heart.
Are they actually trying to invent a whole new language?
