Something In The Water

I have one minor complaint about Charleston, which is a great city with really nice people and excellent arts and comedy.

Why do all the women, every single goddamned one, have to be so freaking attractive?

It's ridiculously, completely unfair. It was as though they were all made of solid gold. Golden hair, golden skin, golden gold.* It was the kind of parade of beauty that makes one insanely frustrated and angry; how is one man supposed to take all of that in?

I believe I've done this before on this very blog, but I am going to defend against objectification by insisting that I fell in absolute and total love with every single girl I saw in Charleston. Me and every single girl in Charleston had our own unique, individual relationship with the contours and textures one comes to expect in a personal interaction. I loved them. I loved them all.

Ah well. Back to ugly, ugly New York.

*copywrite Chris Principe, circa 2001.