I hate to brag, but there's just something about me that drives single, upwardly mobile, college-educated women between the ages of 25 and 34 wild.

All my friends want to know my secret. In all honesty, though, I don't even know what it is. Everyone has their "type," and I guess mine just happens to be unmarried, childless women in white-collar professions requiring two to six years of post-high-school education, usually with an emphasis on health services or administrative support.

I can't say exactly what it is about me that attracts these women, but I do have a lot going for me. As a demographer for a major marketing firm, I earn a salary in the $75,000 to $99,000 range. I spend 20 to 25 percent of my disposable income on entertainment. And at the end of each month, I still have eight percent of my total income remaining to put into savings.

And, unlike some men I could cite, I know how to treat a lady. When I'm on a date, I like to take a woman to dinner at a restaurant costing $20 to $39 per entree. Nothing extravagant, but a nice place, most likely run by a 35- to 60-year-old male who is a member of the city's 22 percent minority population. Often, this owner is Chinese-American, though occasionally he is of Indian or Thai descent.

Then, after dinner, it's back to my place for a drink, typically a bottle of white wine from the Clare Valley region costing $30. I put some nice jazz on the stereo, usually something romantic by a Marsalis brother, 61 percent of the time Wynton and 39 percent Branford.

Once the two (2) date participants settle in on the couch, a little conversation begins. The subject tends to gravitate toward items of interest to 25- to 34-year-olds, but at times I like to shift to topics of primary interest to 18- to 24-year-olds, just to keep things light. Often, we'll discuss our favorite books, movies, and TV shows, particularly Survivor, a very popular program among childless, college-aged young adults, as well as members of three- to six-person suburban families.

I haven't always had such luck with women. For years, I tried dating blue-collar/service-industry employees making between $15,000 and $20,000 per year, only 19 percent of whom had completed education beyond high school–the segment of the population most likely to visit Sea World, shop at Wal-Mart, read True Story, and watch QVC. Big mistake. These dates tended to be significantly less enjoyable than those with women who own a $1,000-plus computer, drink diet soda, watch Nightline or ER, and possess at least two credit cards.

Ever since entering the 30 to 35 age group, I've sworn off dating women in the under-25 demographic. I remember fondly the days when a Saturday night meant spending $100 on an under-25 female, but I'm through with that. Back then, I'd patronize local restaurants or bars three to four nights a week in search of females, but I'm through with that set of preferences, too.

These days, I'm just as likely to enjoy spending a relaxing evening at home, drinking a $2 to $3 premium imported beer and watching a rented movie–usually an action-adventure or drama. Sometimes, it's nice to just curl up on the couch with Freddie, my four-year-old long-haired sporting-breed dog, at my feet.

Yes, after years of dating four to six times a month, I think I'm finally at the point where, should I meet the right 25- to 34-year-old, I'm ready to settle down. I could see us buying a home together in a cute little seaside town with a violent crime rate of under 300 crimes per 100,000 population and a cost-of-living index hovering right around 100. Then, after a few years of married bliss, we'd start thinking about having a few dependents. That would be so wonderful: me, my spouse, and our 1 to 3 children living happily ever after.