My best friend, a descriptive essay
When I first met Josh I wasn't overly impressed. I had walked into a Hooters restaurant to dine with friends, and sitting at the table that greeted me was Josh. I didn't notice his rugged good looks. I didn't pause to gaze down upon his broad shoulders, and thick chest. I hardly noticed the caramel color of his eyes, nor his nicely manicured goatee.
What I saw, was a broken tooth. A very tiny, short, yellowing, broken upper lateral tooth. Nice tooth, I remember thinking. Who could have known that tiny insignificant flaw was what made me take notice and start paying attention.
From his head to his toes, his butt to his nose, Josh is one good looking member of the male persuasion. He's the kind of man that stands out in a crowd. Blessed with height and an athletic build, most of my female friends give him a nine or better on the hottie scale.
To judge him solely on appearances would satisfy the most cynical of beauty critics. But his looks don't scratch the surface of his many layers. He can make you wonder about what lies beneath the exterior. Is he intelligent, funny, or loyal? Are the distinct crinkles and laugh lines around his eyes from laughing or glaring? Why do the teeth that hide behind pale pink lips appear so warn and stained? Was this based on a lazy oral hygiene routine, or merely the accidental blemishes of a careless youth?
Tanned and toned, one might wonder if he spent his days working out in the gym and later lying in a tanning bed. More careful observation would reveal the tan to be uneven and freckled by many hours in the scorching sunlight. The scars and calluses on his hands, face, and shoulders tell the story of many hardworking hours outdoors. Deeply developed shoulders, and a strong back, place him as a man born and bred to labor.