Male makeover fantasies
We live in an appearance motivated society and I work in a zealous perception-oriented industry. Sometimes thoughts pop into my head, unwelcome, but reasonable and often warranted.
I just returned from a meeting…. a series of presentations really. And when the topic isn’t directly related to something I’m working on, my mind wanders. My thoughts moseyed over to the guy sitting across from me (hollow square set-up).
In a parallel universe, he was a hottie. But here, on earth, he had “project” written all over him.
If he was a confident man, he would command a room simply by stepping into it. He towered over everyone else there at 6’5 or 6’6 – but he slouched, like he wished to curl into himself. Then there is the thick, chestnut hair. If he cut it short, or layered the floppy mess, I’d be tempted to run my fingers through those rich locks. Instead it kept falling into his eyes. So occasionally, he’d wag his head like a dog to shake the hair off his face. His eyes are clear blue, rimmed with thick lashes. Not that I had the pleasure of peering into them. During his presentation, he looked up, he looked down, he did a little dance – shifting his weight from foot to foot, with his hands shoved deep into his pants pockets…. a new form of Irish step dancing. We’re not even going to touch the wardrobe.
A small dose of confidence would transform this guy into an attractive, dynamic individual. I could see it in my mind’s eye – the way he appeared before me, and the way he would be if the Fab Five got their hands on him. It was almost painful to just sit there and imagine the way his presentation could have went.
Do you know what I’m talking about it? If I was a tactless moron, I’d shake him and talk some sense into him….. massage his ego a little and plant a few seeds that might one day blossom into some semblance of self-assurance. I mean, what do you do with someone who might need a little nudge? How do you get them to feel better without making them feel worse?
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