|S. R. Karfelt/The Glitter Globe|
Pretty much all of my life I've dismissed beautiful men. You know that old theory that if someone is truly beautiful they're simply TOO BUSY being beautiful to have any time to devote to being interesting? That.
It's not true either. I have a DF who is drop dead gorgeous and a blast and a half. I used to tell her she must have been an ugly child and had spare time to develop a personality. She assures me she's always been killer-beautiful even in the womb as a zygote. Which just makes me LOL that much more. See what I mean though? A sense of humor is a definite sign of an interesting personality.
So my Dear Friend basically blows my theory out of the water. Yet a small part of me still believes it. But I try to temper my stereotype with a .005 second Glance of Assessment to check out the beautiful person's attitude before determining whether or not there is a likelihood of personality. If I find a personality AND beauty I am awed. If not, I drive on by.
So, yeah. We all have our prejudices. This is mine.
In my defense I'm unfailingly polite when I interact with beautiful people, even though I've likely completely dismissed them as being soulless avatars of beauty.
How does one develop this prejudice? I would argue that one pays attention. The sun rises and sets every day you start to expect stuff. It’s partly our fault. We as a species spoil beautiful people instead of treating them as equals. You know it’s true. I know a beautiful woman who vomited on a guy at a rock concert. He ASKED HER OUT. Not to discount my own Effing Swan, but I’m pretty sure I’d have gotten punched out. Let’s not talk about the time she took her car in for an oil change and they pin-striped it for free.
Human beings are drawn to beauty and to beautiful Human Beings, I’m sure it’s an evolutionary trait. Ever notice how Olympians are always beautiful? It’s a sign of good health and genes I’m sure. You glance and some part of you bellows Hey, boy! Wanna share those beautiful healthy genes? That’s how I met my husband. I went after those swimmer abs like a high-powered magnet. Nah, I’m kidding. I like smart guys. Well, smart guys with swimmer abs.
|S. R. Karfelt|