The boy at the coffee cart is disappointed I am not a Nurse.
I could tell.
A certain excitement, the fire of flirtation, left his eyes when I told him I was research staff and not a member of the helping profession.
A male friend of mine later informed me that the very notion that I might be a nurse was a compliment. Another man voiced a similar thought without being prompted.
Now it's not that I want the boy at the coffee cart. No, that is not the point. And, in fact, though I find him amusing and cute in a way that would make me want to set him up with a younger sibling, were I not an only child, I can guarantee I very much do not want the this traveling Barista.
But it's the thought man.
The other day when I was listening to NPR they reported that nursing is the most fetishized profession. BY over 20% people fantasize about nurses more than any other member of the workforce.
Is it the juxtaposition to their care giving nature? The sponge baths? Their ubiquitous role in amateur pornography? Is it something about the notion of these people caring for the sick, even when you never see them in uniform, never witness their compassion.
I don't know.
A friend of mine once commented that since she had become a waitresses she had been hit on about 100% more than she had when she was younger, hotter and a working professional in fuck me pumps. Many of the men who hit on her, were indeed, professionals themselves, the men who did not note her when she was strolling down the street with a briefcase.
She hypothesized that it was because she was now a woman who brought them sustenance, hot nutritious food. That there was something appealing about being cared for that excited the senses and gave a sense of approachability while still creating an air of mystery. After all, she was still being PAID to bring their food, and was not choosing to interact entirely out of personal interest. And she was nurturing, in her own way, by bringing them these meals, and ensuring that they were well cared for with her follow ups "would you like some dessert?"
Is that it? Is that the reason?
I have no idea
Now, I'm not going to draw any parallels here.
But I do find it fascinating what people, men AND women, fetishize and what they do not. What hobbies, talents and professions carry an air of sexuality, even when they do not denote even the slightest commonality.
For example, if I carry a guitar case across town I will get hit on ten times the amount I do normally, and often by people who can not play a lick of guitar. My bicycle gets me more play then I ever imagined. And when I played drums, well holy hell, I was sex on wheels, an irresistible force to men who admitted to me that they hated the band I was in.
In the same vein women who would never want to crawl on the back of a motorcycle will swoon at a man with a helmet and leather jacket, and I heard a teenager commenting to her older sister on the bus today that the only reason her friend was not popular was because he was a skater.
And you know, chicks dig firemen and doctors, more than, say, E.M.Ts and lawyers, even though their income and professional missions might be similar.
I find mathematicians hot. I DONT KNOW WHY. I AM NOT A MATHEMATICIAN AND DONT REALLY WANT TO DISCUSS MATH.
Well, not all the time.
I don't know what it is in our heads that makes us look at a certain talent or outfit and just immediately subscribe this sexual lure to it. But I do know that my flirtation is over with a certain someone because I have an MPH and not an RN.