There you are, struggling to walk against the wind in sub-zero temperatures to make your way to that ill-chosen 1a. But it’s for my major! you protest. Okay? Change it then? I dunno.
Hands, bare —can’t pointlessly scroll with gloves on! Hood, jauntily thrown back, exposing red ears, red nose tip and of course, a questionable haircut from break. Perhaps you might be showing a glimpse of ankle, either to signal the leading of a promiscuous lifestyle or you just ran out of clean crew socks (not to be replenished anytime soon if you live in Myers and lack access to a functioning washing machine) and were overly optimistic about the length of your pants. You’re feeling pretty good about your tolerance for the winter weather, that it’s even above average, maybe? Cute.
My hubris is mercilessly squashed when in the distance you spot, and subsequently tremble, at the unmistakable sight of the pinnacle of masculinity: Guy Who Wears Shorts Even Though It’s Too Cold to Do That (GWWSETITCDT). Suddenly, you are disgusted with your own exorbitant number of layers, and you are forced to accept your inferiority to this testosterone factory who is the closest a man can get to a Norse god. You pity the fools who ask the ever-futile question, “Aren’t you cold?”, to which He replies with a resolute, resounding: “Nah.”
Women want Him, men also want Him. His appeal transcends sexuality. Consider the spectrum obliterated, crushed between thighs as solid as ice. His bare gams are daring hypothermia to do its worst. But even the thought of this makes us chuckle. As if he operates on the same plane as the rest of us puny mortals who are susceptible to such conditions! While his bottoms of choice for the most frigid of days would seem to indicate a preference for the look year-round, meaning continuous exposure to UVs of all levels, those (often) porcelain-colored legs staunchly maintain a beautiful gleam that blends right into the snow. This elite specimen can also be found clad in a light jacket probably more appropriate for early fall, under which you’d be hard-pressed to find a long sleeve.
One might conclude that their immunity to Minnesota in January can be attributed to growing up somewhere with a similar climate; this is a common misconception. The GWWSETITCDT can be found anywhere. It’s an aura that knows no geographical limits. Fulfilling this destiny is not a matter of physical training: you either have it, or you don’t.
Yet ignorance abounds. Nonbelievers like my mother and grandmother shake their heads in disapproval from the inside of our semi-heated car as we drive past a 5”-inseam warrior. People fear what they cannot easily justify. But it’s okay, Abuela. Come, join the enlightened. Because you know who else’s ways were seen as radical at the time? [Famous religious figure, activist, etc.]