The ongoing pandemic has only exacerbated the difficulty of finding an ideal partner for the purposes of companionship, intimacy, and low-stakes bickering. After researching three hundred and fifty-five adult-human archetypes and testing some four dozen, we at Wirecutter confidently offer these suggestions for the partners least likely to disappoint you, what with your high expectations and all.
Our pick
licensed carpenter
Why we liked them: We tried licensed plumbers, electricians, and general contractors, but carpenters stood out for their combination of pensiveness, artistry, and pleasant sawdust aroma, not to mention the steady demand for their skills. (Our testers enjoyed sexual congress with plumbers but were put off by the occasional whiff of sewage.) Licensed carpenters have abilities that are transferrable to home and leisure pursuits, e.g., slicing summer squash and Thai eggplants on a mandoline without cutting off fingertips, picking a banjo in Earl Scruggs style, and restoring abandoned Old Town canoes. Licensed carpenters are also physically fit without being vain or extreme about it. The one we tried most recently was generally sinewy, but with an unintimidating midsection that was pleasingly soft to the touch.
Where they fall short: They are all booked solid through 2024, so you’ll be lucky to enjoy as many as five genuine two-day weekends a year with one. They sometimes get moody and demand “me time” that includes the dog but not you.
Also great
deli owner (fourth generation)
Why we liked them: A huge improvement on the third-gen deli owner—whose performance was compromised by high cholesterol, the stress of meeting payroll during the Pritikin fad, and deep depression caused by overbearing parents and grandparents—the fourth-gen deli owner is a hassle-free breath of fresh air. Our testers were wowed by the fourth-gen model’s marketing savvy, flair for tile-based décor, healthful life style, and hair that is not a comb-over.
Where they fall short: Their self-aware embrace of family heritage, including selling T-shirts featuring black-and-white images of their zaftig forebears, is sometimes too cute by half. But it’s tolerable, and there’s all that free food.
Our upgrade pick
established creative
Why we liked them: They must be doing something right to have that deal with Netflix, the series of fantasy Y.A. novels, and the annual residency at the Beacon Theatre. Our testers appreciated that established creatives reliably book business class, receive screeners of every new film, and know amazing people. One tester boasted of dining with Ta-Nehisi Coates, Oskar Eustis, and Meryl Streep in the course of a single week. The hetero package comes with a Jaguar E-Type, attractively shelved first editions of John Steinbeck, and a meticulously catalogued collection of rare jazz 78s. The queer version comes with a country house set on a tidy working farm run not by the established creative but by a hardy, amiable woman named Abby. Most but not all such farms feature an in-ground pool, stables, two horses, four types of garden (vegetable, butterfly, Zen, tulip), a neighbor who is a luthier, and a quintet of Araucana hens that lay splendid blue-green eggs.
Where they fall short: Be sure to stick to the moderately successful established creative. Our testers found extremely successful established creatives to be more susceptible to messiah complexes, infidelity, using Jessica Chastain as a communications proxy, and assigning to their children such names as Django, Willa, Trumbo, ’Sconset, and Samuel L.
Our budget pick
tenured humanities professor
Why we liked them: Our testers found them to be every bit as bright as untenured humanities professors but mercifully humbled by age, hard knocks, and the recognition that their books are uncommercial. Bodily, they are unimpressive, but some testers found this a welcome relief and even an asset, “a cozy comfort to the Patinkin-curious.” In this price range, compromise is a given—the ’97 Subaru Forester, the campus-adjacent bungalow that always smells of a gas leak—but factor in job security, free gym access, and a European sabbatical, and you’re getting Whole Foods value on a Trader Joe’s budget. ♦
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