Let me preface this post by saying it has nothing to do with Estonia. It has to do with me. And I am a man. Yesterday I did not take a shower and I did not shave because it was my deadline day and I had to hurry to work. As the hours - and caffeine - took their toll, I began to resemble a character that might be at home on a show like Lost, or perhaps a buccaneer co-starring in Pirates of the Caribbean. I was greasy and dirty, and, so I thought, pretty unattractive.
But as I walked to my subway stop I noticed something funny. Women were checking me out. Now, women don't check men out the way a construction worker in the city goes "Holy shit" and will bend over half way to get a close up look at a woman's ass. Instead they sort of seem a bit startled and their eyes open a bit wider. Then they try to back out of their lengthy stare by looking elsewhere. This is different from most occasions when women just walk ahead, eyes front, as to avoid the glare of would-be stalkers, psychopaths, ex-boyfriends, and construction workers.
When I got home, my wife told me - the uncleanly unshaven male - looked handsome. This does not happen every day. But in fact her favorite character on a TV show we watch called Lost is named Sawyer (pictured above) - he's dirty and scraggly and unshaven too. I recall that many of my female friends will go to any Johnny Depp film - even Pirates of the Caribbean - just to see Johnny. And they like him best when he's all dirty and hairy and looks like he smells of cigar smoke, make-up, and rum.
This reminds me of one time when I was living in Denmark. I hadn't showered for, perhaps, three days. I was as greasy and crispy as fried mozzerell'. Even my shirt had holes in it, and, to make it better, someone had written something on it in eyeliner. I was crunchy - I was rank and foul.
But for whatever reason that night, women seemed to want to be around me. I wound up walking home with a very nice-looking Danish masseuse. If I had showered and shaved, that would have never happened. But since I was dirty and resembled Che Guevara, I became irresistable.
It's an odd contrast given how women tend to favor cleanliness. Burping, farting, picking your nose, talking about excretion - these are all obscene gestures that irritate them. They are not as obsessed - or comfortable - with the world of bodily functions, like us guys.
Yet at the same time, they seem to like us most when we smell of body odor, have a scruffy beard, and sort of look like we might be the type of guys you could buy some really good weed from.
What's up with that?
Oh well, women have always been mysterious and fickle in their tastes. And I don't mind going a few extra days without a shave.