Shape up. Because it’s not fair.

It’s hot. It’s been hot for quite a few days now. Around 35° Celsius, and upwards (95° Fahrenheit). And there’s a park a few minutes from where I live, with a lake, a nice, sandy beach, and meadows all around.

Usually, that park is more or less mine. But as the temperature rises, picnic blankets and towels pop up like mushrooms. And on said blankets or towels, scantily clad people.

Now, my voyeuristic tendencies are pretty low, but you can’t help getting a look when that much naked flesh is thrust in your face. And I’ve made an interesting observation.

Women, on average, look better than men. And I’m not into women, so you can’t call me biased in that respect. Anyway, when I say, look better, what I actually mean is, they look healthier. Like they take better care of their bodies. The ratio, at least in my park, is something like 75 to 25 percent. Which is pretty high. What does that tell us?

I think the answer is pretty obvious. We live in a society that pressures women into believing they’re not even allowed to wear shorts in public unless their legs are perfectly shaped. We give them photoshopped supermodels, actresses who had more than one plastic surgery done, and who all look the same, never age, and don’t have a single blemish to prove they ever lived.

That’s the ideal women in today’s world strive for.

There’s no such ideal for men.

The result is women who exercise, eat comparatively healthy and generally take care with their appearance. gorilla-316514_1280That’s cool, in a way. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with looking okay and having a higher life expectancy, lower heart attack risks and stuff like that. It still isn’t fair. I mean, seriously. You straight guys and lesbian women get all the eye candy, while the rest of us if left with a Friedrich Torberg quote, which originally in German, roughly translates into: ‘Every bit, that a man is more beautiful than an ape, is a luxury.’

So guys. Shape up. We want to see some abs next season.

PS: And I’m of course 100% serious about every single word in this post.

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About angelikarust

My name is Angelika Rust. I was born in Vienna in 1977. These days, I live in Germany, with my husband, two children, a despotic couple of cats and a hyperactive dog. After having tried almost every possible job from pizza delivery girl to HR consultant, I now make a living knowing English. No, I haven’t yet figured out what I want to be when I grow up, whenever that may be. In the meantime, I write the occasional book.
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