The Perfect Guy

October 2008

Why do all horsey girls secretly dream of shacking up with a professional rider?

If you'd asked me to make a list of what qualities I look for in a man it would go something like this: 1) Trustworthy 2) Educated 3) GSOH - or my kind of humour. (Same thing really...)

And I think it is safe to say that most professional riders I know of would be nowhere near fulfilling the first two - and the ones that are excruciatingly funny are gay anyway. So in other words my intellect tells me I should not be looking for a rider. And I don't. I really don't expect to find my man anywhere near these kinds of arenas. But then there was this one guy the other weekend...

I first noticed him because he was tall, rather good looking and stood a bit too close to me in the warm up arena. Not good looking in a stunner kind of way, but he had good eyes. And I'm all about the eyes. I think it is because most of the time the easiest way to tell whether you can trust a guy is the look he has in his eyes - or so my theory goes anyway.

So there I was eyeing up a guy at a horse show because he had special eyes. And then when he got out of my personal space and onto his horse he was a bloody good rider too. I suppose you'd expect as much of someone competing at that level, but it is not always the case. So I sat there and watched him warm up discovering that he was German, very tidy over a fence and probably in his early thirties. Perfect.

My first horsey crush was on a guy whose artist name was Lorenzo. Yes, I know, that is not the kind of thing you want to be admitting to, but in my defence I was about twelve and he did this thing where he stood on two horses and jumped fences. It was pretty damn cool, and besides he was drop dead gorgeous in that French kind of way. So after my dad arranged for me to meet him, shake his hand and get his autograph after the show he was my man.

But fortunately I've come a long way since then, and I certainly don't hold a fascination for men with artist names any more. Besides working with horses for years teaches you a few things. Like that there aren't a lot of guys like that around, and that the ones that have that impressive wow-factor have an equally impressive number of girls chasing after them. So you learn to ignore it and in my case start looking for a guy who'll at least tolerate the horsey lifestyle even if he doesn't actively engage in it himself.

Still, back at the collecting ring, I suddenly found myself indulging in the kind of fantasy where I was the German rider's supportive - and of course slightly glamorous - girlfriend who went with him to shows or spent my days schooling his nice horses. But I decided it was okay, after all I've not exactly had an exciting year when it comes down to the opposite sex, so I should be allowed slipping up for once.

So when I bumped into some old friends who were all up for a night of mayhem at the riders' pub later on I quickly ditched my initial plan of going home after the last class. And the first person I spotted as my eyes did a search of the room was the smiling blonde German.

I have only ever really chattet up one guy in my life, which was quite successful - for a while anyway, so I decided this was not the time to mess with my statistics. Besides being in that particular pub in a sober state was a challenge in itself. So I stuck to glancing in his direction every now and again noticed him doing the same thing back. Then just before midnight he finished his drink and left.

In other words my hunch was right - this was a serious guy. More interested in tomorrow's classes, and the girlfriend he turned out to have at home, than potential Norwegian groupies. He must be about the only one out of that lot...

And then it turns out - he runs his own company too. The man has a flipping business degree. Yes, I did google him - and I feel no shame, that's what google is for!

But luckily for me the wisdom of old age has now taught me that there is one backside to perfect things, they are not for real - and certainly not for me. Besides as he brushed passed me on his way to walk the course the next day all I could think was that he smelt just like someone I used to know. Some far from perfect guy that for some unknown reason beat all those horsey guys hands down any day.

So the hunt continues for another one like that.

Update: Only a few months later the perfect guy got in real trouble for allegedly using rather dodgy training methods. Not so perfect after all maybe...