Builder Boys and Builder's Bums

I was hit on by a builder again today. I don’t know why, but somehow builders like me. Like really, really like me. Ordinarily this would be a good thing I suppose, but that operates on the basis that all London builders are built like porn stars with rock hard abs, tousled dark hair that would be heaven to run your fingers through and a natural golden tan to match those puppy dog brown eyes…

Now back to earth.

The London builder however, is none of the above, grey, skinny and stubbly or young, large and flabby. Either way, it’s far from encouraging. Yes ladies and gentlemen, “builders bum” looks even less appetising than it sounds… Add the receding hairline or the overhanging beer gut – well, let’s just say you couldn’t pay me to even consider the idea.

Still, credit where credit is due, in my experience at least, and as far as the dating game goes, builders seem to quite categorically represent the “Alpha Male”. Confident, forward and yet charming, they always have a slight boyishness to them and a wicked sense of humour. They are personable, engaging in conversation and seem genuinely interested in what I have to say, and I know this because of the well placed comments or follow-up questions to the thread of conversation that have nothing to do with my breasts, bum or legs. Not that I have any issue with men looking at my breasts, on the contrary, it’s quite flattering. But it takes a real man to create an illusion of real interest in my person over that of carnal desire for my body. And from there perhaps, might be lucky enough to generate the chemistry required to seal the physical deal with my body.

Anyway, back to the builders –

They are generally quite rough around the edges I find, but that’s as a man should be. They also seem to operate with a straight forward honesty that is lacking in so many of the City types. Straight-up and straight talking, they will tell it like it is, tell me I’m fine, state their intentions and ask me out. The ‘No Frills 3 Step Approach’. No games.

So far, in my rather extensive encounters with various builder types, and it is extensive I can tell you that much – for a City as old and as flat as London, there is a surprising amount of building work going on! As I was saying, in my extensive experience, my ‘builder boys’ have never been pretentious and have never tried to impress with just exactly how big their cars/houses/bank balances/etc are. Okay, so maybe that’s because they don’t have any of those things, but that’s not the point. Why can’t the lawyers/doctors/engineers or bankers (and we all know that they’re the worst of the lot!) take a lesson. The number of times I’ve had to sit in with the City boys all loudly outraged over their ‘meagre’ six figure bonuses this year was just tiresome. Yeah, okay I get it. You’re rich. And what? As Catherine Tate would say “Look at this face. Am I bovvered??”

And another thing, I’ve also noticed that my tailored suits, designer heels or must-have, oversized sunglasses never seem to faze them either. I like that. I really like that. Why is it that these ‘builder boys’ seem to be so much more self assured than these other ‘professional’ types, the ones whom society at large would consider to have made it in life? The ones who have great jobs, nice cars, plush penthouses, more than healthy bank balances yet somehow can’t screw up the courage to talk to a pretty girl in a suit?

Maybe what I’m trying to say is “More power to the people” or rather “to the Builders”. They seem a genuinely likeable lot, and although I can’t comment on this authoritatively, give me the impression that they would take really good care of a girl like me…