Opus 2013-262: On the Street: The Cheesecake Factory

DEFCON is officially over.  All that is left is checking out and getting home.  As I was walking for coffee this morning I once again noticed the advertisements for the Chippendale show.  If your farm is really far back in the woods you may think that Chippendale is a style of furniture and you would be right.  You might think it is a cartoon and you would be right.  But that is for previous generations.  Today, Chippendale is a cheesecake factory.  Not the restaurant but a Vegas Strip Joint.  It is a stage show that features men with big muscles taking off their clothes for a bunch of screaming women.

As I was looking at the huge portraits of buff, smiling dudes it occurred to me that in years of locker rooms and two years in an army barracks I had never seen anyone who looked like these guys.  That made me think about how women respond to the selling of sex with females of likewise unrealistic proportions.  How do I, as a man, feel when the tables are turned?

I look at these smiling ideals and feel a bit of sympathy tinged with humor.  I wonder if they can spell their names.  I wonder if they ever read a book.  I wonder if they wonder if girls are after them for their bodies.  They make me think of young women I have seen standing around the casino obviously uncomfortable, trying to look good.  In a way I feel sorry for them.

I also find it a bit funny.  Who in their right mind would want to spend the kind of time these guys spend lifting weights, avoiding bruises and hoping they don’t get a pimple?  In my world it isn’t how big your muscles are but whether you understand responsibility.  To me it is being a good father, husband and citizen.  Not that I would not like to look good and I understand that having big muscles doesn’t rule out personal worth, but really.

I find myself tempted to go see a show just out of curiosity.  I think though, “What if someone saw me?”  I also imagine what the tickets cost. 

Time to head home.

homo unius libri