About me: I have a "Go-bag" in my closet, in my car and in my office. Each one contains what I'd need to survive on for at least a week if something catastrophic befalls this city. It's got the usual emergency supplies like cereal bars, bottles of water, cash, flashlight, synthetic clothing, etc. Then there are these: a kukri, epinephrine, parachute cords, glow sticks, IV fluids w/ tubes and catheters, LED head lamp, and some Euros mixed in with Canadian dollars. (You never know---the French or the Canadians or the French-Canadians might just decide to invade this country and liberate us from the Republicans.)
I have been accused of being paranoid, but it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it (yes, rubbers, too). Hey, I'm trained as a medic.
I'malso in/famous for giving out fire extinguishers, smoke detectors, and first aid kits to friends and family around Christmas. What good is your cashmere sweater when you're crawling out of your bedroom because the building is on fire? (I received a call one early morning a few years ago from a friend who was sobbing and thanking me profusely for giving her a brand new extinguisher for her birthday: she fell asleep and forgot her fancy kettle on the stove---a gift from her sister. The enamel coating melted causing a fire that destroyed half of her kitchen. She managed to control the flames long enough with the extinguisher while her roommate called the fire department.) My whole personality is predicated on tipping the odds for favorable outcomes for me and for those I care about. "Yes, you're safe with him," is a comment associated with me for as long as I can remember. However---and this is a big HOWEVER---do not associate that phrase with boring. I rock-climbed somewhere in Montserrat (Spain) solo last summer; I kayak alone for hours in the ocean; I used to camp out in the Bitteroot Valley (Montana) in early spring flyfishing for trophy trout; and I sometimes "go commando" for no reason at all.
I'm looking for: On my way home after watching a movie, I came across a baby carriage that was left outside for disposal a few blocks from my apartment. It was in perfect condition; slightly used, no stains, wheels were OK, brakes (I didn't know they came with brakes!) work, and most of all, no stinky baby by-product aroma. So around midnight, with the temperature around 20F/ -5C I found myself pushing an empty baby carriage, over iced-over sidewalk and hard-packed snow, wind blowing, four blocks down the street. And tonight being Friday night, people were out and about. A carload of kids rolled down their window and yelled at me to "take the baby home---IT'S FREEZING OUT HERE, YOU MORON!" I just kept on rollin'.
What was a single, childless dude doing picking up used baby transportation devices on one of the coldest nights in New York? Well, besides the fact that I am totally into recycling, it's because a good friend of mine just had a baby and I knew he could save a couple of hundred dollars if I would just be crazy enough to pick this thing up for free. So now I have "this thing" in the middle of my kitchen fully open since I have no idea how to collapse the damn thing. I just hope my dog doesn't conclude that she is going to be downgraded soon from being my number one object of affection to a distant second to whatever critter is supposed to fit in that wheeled thing in the kitchen.
What has this story got to do with what I'm looking for in a woman? If you and I were living together, and one frozen evening I came home with a baby carriage and a grin on my face, THEN you started laughing---not nervous laughter, but pure funny laughter---I am looking for YOU. You are the kind of woman I want to hang out with. However, if you're the type who'd start freakin' out and go Freudian psycho-analytical on the significance of the baby carriage now thrust in the middle of our common living space, I probably don't want to be around you longer than six minutes.