Run-In With The Beautiful People

Just recently at my restaurant I had a run-in with the beautiful people, leaving me doubting myself, and feeling a bit depressed for a good portion of the day. Put on your reading glasses, straighten your double-breasted suit, and join me for a rip-roaring romp through a psychological self-evaluation! Pass the popcorn!


It started when a very attractive, and fashionably hip young woman walked into my establishment (I say "my" as if I own the place, when in fact I am just peon working as a cupcake). She quickly caught my eye, as they do, with her long dark hair, near perfect, though most likely artificially enhanced body, and her stylistic mix up upscale meets edgy rocker look.

I smiled and tried to act no different then if I were just greeting two decrepit old people with walkers that had no sense of humor (I greet them more then I care to mention. Shit! I mentioned it!) Right off the bat, I expected the typical attitude from the "I know I'm attractive and therefore I don't have to be civil or kind" prejudgement of the girl, but instead she surprised me by being quite cordial, and friendly. She mentioned that she was waiting for one more person ( I naturally hoped it was not a guy), and she said she would wait for them to arrive. (Yes I understand that "them" usually mean plural, and is not used to denote an individual. Eat me.)

No sooner had she finished her sentence, when a tall, marble-sculpted young black man came walking through the door and gave the girl a hug. I was instantly disappointed (though for the record, I can't think of a time when I'm not), and instantly switched my background thoughts to a new tactic: find a reason to hate them.

He was clad in the male version of her manner of dress: upscale and hip, yet with the edgy rocker cool guy vibe. I waited for him to open his mouth and speak like an over-privilaged douche bag, or an ignorant dick wad (the only two choices, obviously). But, to my personal shock, he was well spoken, just like the girl, made good eye contact, smiled, and was even making friendly light jokes.

Now I was really upset. But in a strange new way.

My attempts to quickly write off these two stereotypical ideologies of the human species, as assholes and idiots, had suddenly backfired on me, and I was left feeling confused about my always trustworthy Bag O' Common Generalizations. That bag had rarely, if ever, failed me, and I figured my observational powers were becoming quite honed these days. So much for that. Good thing I purchased the extended warranty.

I also realized, mid-event, that this urgent need for me to find something to hate about them seemed to stem from my own insecurities. Yes, even in the midst of frustration, confusion and some other word that seems relevant here, I still manage to go into psycho-self-analyzation mode. (What can I say, that's just how my brain works). Within a few seconds I already began thinking that It was as if my self-image (which, if you know me, is always super positive and wonderful. . . . . . . . . . . . *cough*. . . . . . .) was being threatened by people straight out of a modeling magazine for the genetically gifted (as opposed to the opposite).

Now, I've really never been the person to chock up a lot of who I am to a delusion of my so-called "chiseled good looks", (of which I have none just to be clear), but it still did not help the ol' self esteem in the slightest.

I sat the two of them on the patio, and went back to my standing (of which I had a lot to catch up on from the other day). Here I stood in thought, slipping into the detrimental "compare and contrast" and beginning to feel stupid for feeling stupid.

Looking over toward one of the servers, I noticed that she also pointed out the couple (most likely for the near fictional male) to another female coworker, for the obvious reason of sheer attractiveness.

The more I shot glances their way, the more I realized that yet another element made things emotionally complicated for me about the situation: the girl very much resembled an ex-girlfriend. This "recent" relationship line of contemplation still won't leave me, and to be reminded of it in such a way that I can picture this girl as my ex-girlfirend, smiling, and enjoying herself with Ridiculously Attractive Man, felt like driving a serrated, rusty steak knife into my emotional psyche, and then rubbing owl turds into the wound. And by that I mean that I was dancing an enchanting Irish Jig.

In order for coincidence to order itself in such a way to make me that much more aware of the situation, two more super-sculpted über-hipters walked in and joined them at their increasingly sexy patio table. Instinctually I wanted to grab some velvet rope and section the table off with a sign reading, "Sexy Only".

If you've read any of my past blogs, you may know that I'm very keen on intelligence and personality being the most important factors in a worthy human being. I also would like to think that this mantra would stand tall in the face of adversity, being able to acknowledge the fact that these people were indeed overly beautified on the outside, but finding some vestige of solace in the development of my own mind, talents, and self-awareness.

No such luck for me. At that moment, and for a good while after that encounter with the pinnacles of biological development, I threw away my championing of intellect, wit, humor, and creativity. In one fell swoop all of my core values were rendered meaningless.

The mere observation of this fact added more depression on top of the previous frustration/confusion/self-image combo from earlier.

Who hasn't longed to be the one who is so insanely gorgeous, that everyone's heads can't help but follow you as you walk through a room? That everyone of the opposite (or same if you prefer) sex, has no interest in anyone but you, as you are all that is beautiful, all that is desirable, pure, unfiltered, walking talking sex.

Well, I'm not that person, and never have been. Save for a strange moment in my freshmen year of high school as the new guy, where a handful of little girls were reported to have a school girl crush on me (so I heard), I experienced nothing resembling being the beautiful one. I usually feel that I go unnoticed in most social settings, and I attract no special attention due to my appearance (especially now that I have short hair and don't wear crazy clothes around everywhere, in a silly youthful cry to be noticed). Although as I write this, I'm thinking that this might be purposefully designed as a way to blend in and escape. But what am I escaping from? Myself? Interesting. . .

Another blog. Moving on.

What I really want to hammer home, is how something as simple as a group of physically attractive people could cause such an internal conflict and disruption for me both mentally and emotionally, that I temporarily doubt my own hard fought and won convictions of who I am and what I value.

If I assume that a great many people would be attracted to these people (just me assuming), then why am I focusing so much of my time and energy on bettering myself in these esoteric philosophical bullshit ways? Who else besides me cares about the core content that I do? The emphasis on knowledge and understanding of the self and others? The importance of art, creativity and expression? Although I realize that these thoughts are, for the most part, unfounded, it didn't stop them from residing in my brain for a quick vacation.

In the end, I still value all of the concepts of existence that I have worked long and hard on, as well as those I've journeyed through personal pain and strife to discover. And I'm not sure if I was able to really learn something profound from the experience beyond the realization of how fragile my self-image and emotions can be over something that is, in reality, completely trivial. I guess I have a lot of work still ahead of me.


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