The other day this guy walked into the gym in a low neck slim fit T-shirt, a mink man bag (not the gym bag!) slung across his shoulders chewing gum. The man bag first caught my eye. Who substitutes a gym bag with those stylish little bags men of this day carry around? And what the hell do guys put in those bags?

 After I was done with the bag something else about him sent another flag. He must have come straight from the shower or something. His glossed lips and the vanity of Hugo boss cologne about him sent the sweaty local men around looking at each other with those eyes. You can always smell the ‘cool’ whenever it passes your way. He was new here, but guy looked easy, even chic and breezy in his shorts and green Nike sneakers. He looked like those guys who throw random cheesy lines at a girl in a group and get away with it, with a phone number of course. Which girl wouldn’t anyway?

I could tell from his gait and ripped-to-shits physique that he auditions for some fancy male lotion or underwear.  He talked casually to the gym trainer who showed him to the changing rooms. Then he came out in shorts and a white tight fitting vest with a white towel over his neck. At this point I was groaning under a 60kg weights bar pumping in  bench presses. I pretended to catch my breath and stole a quick one at his devastating abdominal, mahn!

Well, don’t turn your gayders on here folks. I remain loyal to skirts, even if the skirts find a hard time returning the favor. I am just talking innocently about this man who can never come a mile near my girl. Again, men are allowed to ‘ogle’ at other men’s muscles at the gym, no? That shit is allowed, there is nothing fruity about it. Just don't make it so obvious! And since I am having a devil’s time trimming my abdomen to anything desirable, l am allowed to get some motivation.

He takes a skipping rope hanging from the wall and gets into intensive rapid skips and within about eight minutes nonstop his girl-pick-up arm is glistening in profuse sweat. All this time I have neglected my bench presses and took to the dumb bells. Working out the biceps will definitely give me a better chance at stealing glances at this creature. There is something about this fellow that’s alien in my cycle of folks I meet every day and you are soon going to find out why. Don’t throw in the towel just yet.

All through the workout he maintains almost unwavering attention to the mirrors on the wall. He flexes this, licks lips, grabs his vest and raises to expose his stupid abs, gushes water down his throat from this fancy water bottle, towels his torso, rapid succession of selfies in a hundred poses etc. These men who takes selfies at the gym! I don’t think he turned for help from any of the sweaty men around when he was doing the bench presses. And such is unacceptable. That is a crime yo. You always need to get a ‘STRONG!’ chant from your niggas as you pump that thing. But our guy was more into the mirror and if not the mirror his eyes found their way into this light skin with an omg! piece of glorious ass.

We can’t blame him here for ignoring our ‘PSYCH!’ and ‘STRONG!’ grants for a more worthy course. Again we could tell from our frustrations that the girl with the greatest ass in the gym was already turning to jelly whenever the guy looked her way. A single grin from the guy exposing teeth arranged in great architecture was enough to probe the girl to shifting her squat station to a spot near the guy. Five seconds into their growing chemistry the guy was already ‘supporting’ the girl’s torso from behind as the girl squatted.

I met this guy again yesterday as I was having my haircut. He was ‘poised’ in the seat next to mine. He was giving the barber deliberate and specific instructions on how he should angle around his head. I am a sucker for sharp haircuts. I can cause a riot in a barbershop if the barber dare makes a mistake and gives me what I am not asking. I like the edges neater, the angular cuts sharper and precise. But you should have seen the way the guy terrorized the poor barber.

“Dude, you are digging too deep into my temple! Oh my gosh! Easy,  easy,well, not that way…..make it look like in this picture, nothing less. You get?” He had come in with a photo of some Hollywood black celeb with those almost photo shopped like haircuts. And he wanted nothing less.

You have met this new crop of men. Or perhaps Lord have mercy on your masculinity, you are one of them. The lot that will beat their female counterparts on the number of shoes they wear per week. These self-obsessed, or is it possessed, men with ‘painstakingly pumped and chiseled bodies, male enhancing tattoos, piercings, adorable beards and plunging necklines”

Have you met the spornosexual?

Even my word document is confused by this word and on right clicking to check for spelling options it gives me those I have no idea ‘wharathis’ options.

The spornosexual has jumped right out of the glossy male model magazines and joined you in the street, in the café and most notably in your uptown mall where they sell trends. He obviously has disposable income that can finance an election campaign. This guy’s appetite for shopping beauty products has transcended the boundaries previously ring-faced for women and gay men.

He is excessively obsessed with his body image and I think he jerks off just by looking at himself in the mirror. As a certain magazine described them in 2014, porn and sport got to bed while Mr. Armani took pictures.

I was ingratiating myself with the idea of the metro sexual until it got to men walking around with man bags staffed with lotions and lip glosses, going for guy liners and facials at the spar. The metro man could have been excused for trying to liberate his masculinity from the traditional almost archaic retro sexual. However the sporno or basically let’s call them male socialites are the last nail to the coffin of masculinity.

This category of attention seeking, unabashed twats who are cultivated by the celebrity culture and churned out by social media are actually the feminine version of men. The girly men. It is easy to confuse this breed with gay men, but what do you think of a man who gets flattered easily when his eyebrow is complemented?