As all good Classics students will know, there's a myth about a guy called Narcissus. This man was sooooo beautiful that he fell in love with his own reflection and drowned himself.
Clearly, therefore, perfection is pretty dangerous.
And yet, in our society there are still a gazillion Knobheads and vain Arrogant Arses who think that their appearance gives them special treatment - that they should be in the First Class Lounge on the British Airways flight of life. They walk into a room and expect every member of the opposite sex to swoon because of their bulging water-balloon biceps and their pearly white teeth. They stroll with a presence that says 'I could just look at your knickers at they would jump off you'.
But here's what confuses me: we actually go for these guys!!
When you're at the club Tiger there are 4 categories of guys:
1. The boys who have just broken up from their girlfriend and may be devilishly handsome but are NOT interested in anything other than Whiskey and Lads.
2. The geeky guys who are so excited by the sight of drunk girls in dresses that barely cover their bottoms that they are practically shaking.
3. The guys who are wayyyyyyy too old to still be clubbing and thus have been named the Creepy 30-Somethings, who leech on youngsters like creepy people in an effort to salvage their youth.
4. The beautiful Narcissuses. These are the boys that all the girls stare at in their drunken states. These are The Chosen Ones who manage to get served a drink just by looking at the bartender and giving her a cute smile whilst plebs like me have been waiting for 15 minutes. And these are the ones who have their pick of all the fish in the club and usually get with multiple girls in one night.
And I repeat: We go for these guys!
And these guys may never change, that's what scares me. The gym may always be their mothership and they may always have girls falling for them wherever they go.
This is a more frightening thought for me at the moment because we are going on a girls' holiday to Kavos in a few months, where there will be plenty of Narcissuses on the prowl for females of the same Perfectness. And let me tell you, I am not one of those. My thighs look like water-beds, my bum is about as toned as an orange that has been sat on by an obese dog and my boobs are Tic-Tac size.
But it's fine, I've already tried dating a Narcissus and I'm clearly more of a Geek Chic kinda gal.
And if there are no chic geeks then...
Well, Tequila and I have always been the best of pals.