I was skiing in sub freezing temperatures the other day, and everyone was bundled up like firewood (only less sticky). I rode on the chairlift with several different people, many of whom I never learned the gender of. It's a peculiar predicament sitting two feet away from a being that you can't even see, except for their nose.
"Should I be attracted to her? What if it's not a she?"
"Should I discuss manly things like tube socks with him? What if it's not a he?"The only information I have regarding the elusive entity is the protrusion sandwiched between the goggles and the scarf, commonly called a nose. I can usually rule out the mysterious creature being a bear since they typically have a pinker, flatter nose. Snakes are out too. In fact, generally it's not too difficult to determine if its a human or not, even for me.
It's hard to be attracted to a nose, just as it's hard to engage in meaningful interlocution about tube socks with a nose. Here is where those sea-lion-like bristles under the nose come in handy. I rode up with one lively coat and set of pants, and without a doubt I knew there was a man underneath because I could see his moustache. This man recognized the power of the 'stache. He recognized that Winter was approaching and his only chance of maintaining his masculine identity during those cold months was to let his manhood known to all chairlift riders. His facial hair screamed: "Don't hit on me, sir! I am a man! Let's discuss tube socks instead!" And that we did. I still don't fully support moustaches, but I do hope this newfound insight will help palliate your pain when you see a man who looks like he has a comb stuck in his lip.