Often, when I head over to Marin County, there is a woman in her twenties or early thirties waiting at the same bus-stop for the city bus to go to work. She wears scrubs -- medical profession workwear -- and usually a coat because mornings in San Francisco are cold.
I do not know whether she is a nurse or a dental assistant. She might even be a laboratory technician.
Scrubs are a neat common sense ensemble suitable for anyone working in the healthcare field. Even if in pretty soft colours like primrose, lavender, or pink, scrubs say that the person in question is engaged upon something serious and worth doing, something that requires attention to detail, knowledge, and intelligence. Simple, practical, no frills.
Scrubs are utterly HOT, in an intellectual way.
If, at a soiree, I had the opportunity to have a chat with a vivacious blonde wearing bling and a short cocktail dress, or a quiet young lady wearing scrubs, you know which direction I would head.
Even if the cocktail dress showed cleavage, as I'm sure it would.
Thanks to the medical terminology bandied about so freely in our house when I was still a youngster, I am conditioned to think of women in the hospital and oral medicine fields as bright, conscientious, and altogether fascinating. Capable people, with attractive brains and vocabularies. Infinitely more appealing than any amount of downtown office-ese.
The woman at the bus stop looks very nice. Serious, calm, and abstracted. She's probably thinking of urine samples or thoracic ex-rays. And perhaps she has an aptitude for multisyllabic latin and greek locutions.
A person straightforwardly familiar with body parts.
I've never spoken to her. I do not want to interrupt her dreams of petri dishes or complicated paperwork.
But I would like to.
Scrubs: a simple elegant clothing option. One that speaks volumes.
The uniform that says "don't bother me, I'm otherwise occupied".
Admit it: if you were at an important event and a woman wearing scrubs walked by, heads would discretely swivel, conversation would fade slightly, and everyone would endeavor to act more adult and mature than a moment ago. Because someone with a brain and a purpose went past. It would totally change the ambience from flighty and flibberty to serious and meaningful.
I wonder if she's married.
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1 comment:
Look for a ring. If there is no ring, its likely she's not married. Start a conversation. If there is chemistry ask her out. This isn't rocket science.
You aren't 16. You can do this.
Its very frustrating watching someone with your gifts alone and lusting after waitresses and dental assistants from afar. Get out there in the real world. Take some risks.
Really. You can do this.
Rah Rah Rah. Todays pep talk is over.
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