There are a dozen words in the Inuit language for Snow. (Except there aren't ~ it's a hoax.) For my part, I have 5 different words for the types of reactions I can instil in women just by entering their peripheral vision.
I have just returned from my second karate class. It was disappointing to discover that I'm not, by now, an expert shitkicker with Bruce Lee's casual talent and a (male) stripper's physique.
It was just as disappointing to remember that I am The World's Greatest Sweater (Verb, not Noun. I am not bad clothing.)
Trust me, it's a pale thing. I'm not massively overweight. I just perspire beyond all possible belief because God hates me. And when I really go nuts exerting myself during something like karate, I'm a veritable breached dam. (For some reason, during sex, I'm not so bad. Perhaps this is due to a combination of rhythm if I may be so bold, periods of exertion Vs near-relaxation, oh, and Hell has normally frozen over.)
So I'm standing there looking like a Giant's picked me up by the ankles and submerged me in a pool. Participants had to change partners from around the Dojo (a room in a gym in West London), and some lucky women find themselves facing me for the very first time.
I look wet.
I look violently anaemic.
I am panting.
I look like I'm about to clutch my chest and collapse.
I am not wearing a Dinner Jacket.
Remember the old black and white Dracula films? The close ups of womens' eyes widening with fear? The look of absolute, all-consuming terror?
I've had that.
As above, but more controlled. If you look closely, you can see their eyebrows scrunch together as they try to fathom the vile depths that nature can plumb in belching out such apparitions.
Nausea almost immediately overcomes them. They look as if they may faint. Cheeks may expand as they struggle to keep their dinner down. Much wooziness.
Eyes open wide. Shock turns to barely suppressed guffaws. Some attempts at looking away, followed by quick checks back to see if their eyes do indeed deceive them.
They don't. I am a hopeless cunt.
I'm entranced by twinkling eyes with wide irises. There's perpetual eye contact. And a hint of a smile through gently parted lips.
This is normally a photograph.