Through a series of tweets last week, Miss Jackay and I dubbed my trip to Montreal #hunkwatch2011. I could try to explain how that happened, but I'm not completely sure myself and those details are pretty irrelevant.
Upon my arrival, however, we decided we better discuss what kind of hunk we were looking for. While we both appreciate a generally attractive man, we felt the word hunk connotes a certain type of attractiveness.
In my attempt to define the term, I rambled on using words like "tall," "broad," and "muscular."
I used A.C. Slater as a classic 90s example, and Ryan Reynolds as a modern-day hunk.
Miss Jackay agreed with these terms, and off we went, keeping an eye out for hunks wherever we went.
We quickly realized, however, that spotting a true hunk in the places we visited wasn't as easy as hoped.
We spotted a hockey hunk at Buvette, who had the right build but could be slightly cuter in the face.
And at the park on Saturday I spotted a slightly older gentleman hunk, who I certainly wouldn't say no to. I think he noticed me staring, as he put his shirt on and left just as I spotted him.
But for most of #hunkwatch2011 we identified a number of almost-hunks, who quite frankly just didn't have the stature of my ideal hunk vision.
That changed on Sunday, however.
As we waited for brunch outside Lawrence, Miss Jackay's friend pointed out a table by the window where two men sat.
Muscular.
Broad shoulders.
Decent enough faces.
But were they tall?
"Yes, I saw them sit down," Miss Jackay's friend confirmed.
When we were finally seated, we just so happened to be in the vicinity of the hunk table, allowing me to ogle their food as well as their biceps.
Success!
Already feeling pretty satisfied, we went to the park later that day.
As I strolled around, photographing the Tam-Tams spectacle, I came upon a number of tight-rope walkers in the park. One of which just so happened to remove his shirt and reveal himself to be a freakin' adonis.
Yeah, I snapped a pic.
I took this photo back to my friends, lounging on a blanket nearby.
And Miss Jackay's friend then confirmed that my tight-rope walking hunk was in fact also our brunch hunk!
This seemed like fate, or something, that we encountered our blond hunk twice in one day and I decided he must be the pinnacle of #hunkwatch2011. (See how I used the word pinnacle there, instead of climax?)
After a weekend of searching, we had found a true Montreal hunk. And as we lounged in the park, every once in a while he would tight-rope into view, and we'd crane our necks to get a good look.
Phew.