Brazilians

Now I’m not sure how this phenomenon started but all I can say is, “It’s about time!”

The University of Chicago has managed to recruit a cadre of super hot Brazilians. Words like “Thank God” and “Yowsa!” seem to escape my lips when the thought crosses my mind.

For those of you not in the know, The University of Chicago despite its super elite academic status cannot parlay that smarts into the looks department. Now granted, earlier this week I was complaining that I myself was falling down on the job. But trust me boys and girls, I clean up well---really well.

It’s different when you have something to work with and it just needs a little tweaking vs. managing to hit your face with the springboard as you dive into the gene pool.

Which, truth be told, isn’t that much of a deal breaker.

If you have something to work with---a personality, wit, a good sense of style, basic hygiene; all of that can compensate for not so stellar looks. I mean look at the late Duchess of Windsor or Eva Peron. Both weren’t winning any beauty pageants but made the most of what they had and worked it---hard. Both are now style and cultural icons.

It has been my experience that the U of C kids are 0 for 4 on most counts.

That’s why these friggin model hot Brazilian men stick out like sore thumbs.

They’re tall, they’re dark mysterious men of color, they’ve got great teeth, they’re beautiful and most of all they can hold an honest to God conversation. On top of that can you believe that they’re smart enough to get into U of C?

I mean I know all of those kids are gonna be my boss someday but at least I took comfort in the fact that I was socially superior. Now I’m not too sure if they keep on getting the hotties to come to Hyde Park.

My first encounter with the hot Brazilians was when I was hoping on the bus on a Friday evening a few weeks ago. We were both caught in the rainstorm but only one of us had their shirt on.

I hate when ridiculously hot bodied men come up to me in bus shelter and ask my permission to take their shirts off. The only thing I could think was…”Dear Penthouse, I never thought this would happen to me in a million years…”

That’s when I knew this bus ride was NOT going to suck. Plus he was impressed that I knew Brazilians spoke Portuguese, not Spanish.

I’m sure he would have been more impressed if my makeup had not been washed off in the rain.

45 minutes of wit and pleasant conversation made the usually torturous ride fly by in what seemed like seconds. Alas, he had to exit at 55th and Hyde Park Blvd. I continued on to Woodlawn.

Heavy sighs all the way around.