The other day I saw a Cadillac Escalade. It’s not necessarily a beautiful car; it’s just imposing in an elegant way, monstrous and self-aware.
It has a large sneering snout that makes it look like it’s constantly disgusted with the state of Kenyan roads.
If an Escalade were a woman, she would be a short, heavy, bleached in the face and very large around the hips, always wearing loud lipstick and short dresses that expose acres of her light thick legs.
She would be the kind of woman who turns everybody’s head.
Anyway, everybody (especially the women) stared at this car and its owner – a balding 40-something guy with a permanent smirk – who stared straight ahead in a phoney show of indifference.
I thought it was the most charismatic car I had seen in a while and as we inched along, all I could think of was its snout.
But then after about 10 minutes, I saw another car; a Mercedes CL 500, I think; black as sin, sleek like mercury and with contours that flowed like lava.
A Mercedes has lots of self-esteem – it doesn’t need your validation. Her beauty is a bound in solitude.
If that car were a woman, she would be tall and slender, with just the right curve on the hips. In a nutshell, most people will stare at a great car, but everybody will stare at a Mercedes.
The thing with staring at cars is that it’s a very superficial thing. It’s a momentary indulgence that hardly ever goes beyond optical satisfaction.
Men don’t have any loyalty as to what car gets stared at more. Ours is an equal opportunity endeavour.
And there are many sleek cars on our roads these days, even though everybody is crying about how tough times are.
This also simply means that nobody dwells on the beauty of a car for too long. One beautiful car will distract you, but only until another equally exquisite one comes along.
So driving on our roads will consist of staring at machines that speak to something in you, but it’s very trivial this visual dialogue and it’s forgotten as soon as it starts.
Where was I going with this? Ah, yes. Most women don’t understand the whole fascination with machines.
But once they understand the thinking behind it, they might also understand why men always seem to stare at other women.
To stare at another woman is not to lust after or to want. It doesn’t mean you weren’t breast-fed enough. And you don’t have to see a sex therapist.
It means you are a guy, you are visually driven and you love contours and bends and things that challenge your optical functions.
It means that beauty will always triumph over reason on any day.
The only time staring at another woman is unacceptable is if your woman catches you at it. Then, it changes from its pure form and becomes cloudy from disrespect.
It’s amazing how your woman stares at the object of your fascination and picks on the quality that she (your woman) presumably doesn’t have.
If she has bad legs and the other woman has spoon-bending legs, she will think you are dissatisfied with her legs.
She will also have a problem when she thinks she is aesthetically more beautiful than what you are ogling at.
Try and ogle at a woman who is ‘under her pay grade’ in terms of beauty and see if she will even bother. In fact she, might just start questioning her choice of man (you).
After all has been said and done, a Range Rover is not built like a Jaguar, but they are all very fine machines. But you don’t see a Jaguar sulking because you admired the Range’s husky vroom.
You know why? Well, first (if you want to rationalise and thus trivialise this argument) it’s because cars, unlike human beings, don’t have feelings. And secondly, it’s because the Jaguar knows that it’s more graceful and agile.
At the end of the day, we all stare at all of them. And we don’t judge them when we stare at them. We simply stare. Then we move on