Hot man in comfortable clothes has almost no ego by Forrest Martin
Image by: Rio
The lights dimmed, a man walked onstage to no fanfare, and I knew I would be at least decently satisfied because the stage direction was fantastic. Nothing but a fair, exceedingly handsome man with a soft, even voice and a faint French accent, in loose electric blue gym pants tucked in to brilliantly white socks, topped with a time-worn, loose-but-still-form-fitting vintage red t-shirt and a slouchy grey hoodie. I suddenly felt that comfortable in my own white t-shirt and hoodie, and was especially happy that I'd only just showered fifteen minutes before.
He introduced himself as Cedric Andrieux, 33 years old, born the same year as myself. "Am I perceived as this much of an adult man?" I wondered. If so, how strange. But I began to reorganize my self-image thusly.
He spoke to the audience with such measured consideration that you began to feel a very quick, very false intimacy quite effortlessly. Apparently, he was going to be still and sincere with us, which can be a disaster if there's any indication of hesitation. Fortunately for our nervous, fidgety selves, he carried it off. We still coughed, and dropped heavy objects (twice?), and forgot to silence our cell phones before making musical spectacles out of turing them off (dee-dee-dee-dee, di-de-da-da, doo-doo-doo-dee-dum), but we learned to trust him and lean into the story he told of his life of awkward starts and desires; all the while very aware of how quiet it was between phrases. Until we weren't.
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