Boy, that security guard in the elevator at the New School on West 16th sure exuded some masculinity. He stood like a statue of a master or a highly acclaimed war hero. With arms crossed and feet out wide, his exuberant chomps on some sort of gum gave well to the acoustics of the elevator. His mouth had a horse-like effect, strangely hyper-sexual.
The bulging barbed wire bicep and the earring on the top left right ear. The stocky stature with a possible gold ring on a slightly chubby thumb (is what I pictured–thumb actually hidden from view).
You may, fair friend, judge these exhibitions as “typical” or even “stereotypical” of this masculinity-drenched security guard, just “tryin-ah-make-it-to-tha-fohth-floh.”
But be warned: exterior displays of personality may mean more than they appear, since, for whatever reason, they told me to move on from usually deemed “deal-breakers” and proceed to thoughts of sexual activity.
Perhaps it was the tight squeeze on the trip from the 10th to the 7th, or maybe it was the muggy weather which caused perspiration of the most unnatural and slightly excessive sort. But for whatever reason, even “few inches shorter than me” was, in that moment, stamped SEXUAL PREY.