“Women Love Cashmere”
Sorry for the gap in posting; I was in drunken stupors. “Albert” is the subject of today’s story; he’s in his late 20s now, but reminisced with me about the good times he had during his college years.
Albert says he was raised a “good Protestant Presbyterian, very by-the-book.” He didn’t have a very wild time in high school, but then he went away to college and “experimented” with drugs and alcohol. (The college was in a small city in the south.) During this time period, he was able to overcome his “Calvinist upbringing,” and from about 1999 to 2001, he “found [him]self getting laid all the time.” I asked, “Did 9/11 ruin it?” He replied, “It did.” You know, when thousands of Americans lost their lives in a brutal terrorist attack, I was too busy being all paranoid about Bush to be suitably mad at the hijackers. People would be all like, “They hate our freedom,” and I thought it was mindless jingoism. Now I can totally see it, though. Islamic fundamentalists do hate our freedom. Going to college and getting laid a lot might improve their attitude.
Before all that went down, however, Albert’s campus was a paradise for the carefree drunkard he had become. How did he make himself over? Perhaps, like me, you’ve been watching the new season of The Pickup Artist, and have been disheartened by the execrable fashions in which Mystery and his contestants display themselves. (Seriously, this is an amazing show, but I don’t need to see men wearing a bunch of labret piercings, fur top hats, and bedazzled t-shirts! What a mess!) If that’s the case, you will be glad to know that Albert seduced a quite respectable volume of women while attired in classic masculine styles.
First of all, he acknowledges that “it could be the beard” that did it. He still has it now, but in the younger age range, a lot of guys aren’t able to grow them, and anyone who can has a Darwinian advantage. Listen up, haters: A lush, full beard is a total panty-dropper. In addition, though, his usual look consisted of khaki pants, a button-up shirt, and a v-neck cashmere sweater. He would get these sweaters at thrift stores, so he had enough of them to wear out every weekend. If it wasn’t the beard, it was the sweaters: “Women love cashmere.”
(Above, an example of a good-looking beard, for demonstration purposes; that is not Albert. Imagine if it were, though! I’d marry him.)
Our protagonist would wear usually muted colors, but accessorize the outfit with a brightly colored scarf. I approve of this look — it’s well-thought-out and dapper. His various hookups would happen when he’d go to friends’ parties. He would go outside to smoke and “the gals would be there.” As he points out, “I’m a pretty gregarious guy.” He would get talking to these gals, probably they would want to handle him because of his pleasantly soft exterior, and the next thing you know they’re making out.
Albert remembers one incident in particular. He and his roommates had a big party at their place. He had invited his co-workers at the restaurant he worked at. One of these was an older woman, about 32. (She was a waitress, he was a host.) He had never thought of her in a romantic way before, but started to do so quickly: He ran into her in the bathroom, as she was heading out and he was going in. He opened the door, and she was drying her hands. He was wearing a pair of big aviator sunglasses, and she said “nice sunglasses.”
Since she liked them so much, he put them on her. They started slipping down her face — he has a big head — and he said “you look hot.” The next thing you know, they were making out. They didn’t go all the way in the bathroom, but they didn’t need to: His bedroom was only seven steps away. At this point my notes become intelligible, because I was experimenting with alcohol when I took them, but I assume they had a good time.