Let’s all take a moment to thank God for the Instagram account that brought us this:



A photo account called “Hot Dudes Reading” is a thing.

It’s like a digital nerdy version of Playgirl (Is PlayGeek a thing yet? Can we make it one?)

They’re not reading from some electronic steno pad device, mind you. They’re reading real, page-flippable books. And the more I look at these images, the more I ask myself, “Why?” I mean, what transforms a looker with a booker into a next-level hottie? And the conclusion I’ve drawn thus far is a half ‘n half one.

The first half of what makes these lit loving dudes seem hot is that there’s always something about demonstrating a passion that makes a sexy person even sexier. Sure, Sir GQ all suited and booted and headed for work looking perf at early o’clock is pure retinal pleasure for me. But the moment I see him engaged in something outside of his own ego – he’s automatically at least 50% more appealing than the moment he stepped on the metro and the choir of angels sounded (although that could’ve just been my A.M. caffeine kicking in). It’s a fact that goes for either gender, really. A human creature automatically ascends at least a couple notches on the hottie scale the second we see them lose themselves in something they’re passionate about – whether it’s an Upton level gorgeous chick breaking out into quality dance or song (quality being the key – pardon the pun) or a Beckham-esque looking dude working on a car or kicking ass at a sport. That total state of awareness people enter when they love what they’re doing is attractive ’cause everyone wants to feel that way about something. So we’re drawn to people who are.

But then, there’s this other half too.

And I tend to think the other part of what makes “Hot dudes reading” so enticing is… the mystery.

I’m wondering…. where are you from? Aside from where my dreams and the pages of Esquire meet? Where you headed? Whatchyo name is? What are you reading? (Obvi) I mean, is that a Spiderman comic hidden in that giant copy of “Untethered Soul” or are you really trying to expand your consciousness with the aim of loving humanity better? And what do you like to do on Sundays? Ya know – between cycling twelve miles and getting laid by the first chick you see at the café directly after, who you don’t even hafta hit on – just glance at and nod toward the loo? The same day I spend crying into a vat of almonds and dried tart cherries while questioning every decision I’ve ever made in my life? Yes, that mystery is supremely exciting. I’d almost rather wonder than know. Because, as a person, I can’t help but compare this with hot dudes I do know – especially those I’ve dated. And after having dated them, known them, and ripped the mystery from them like Lucifer’s ethereal feathered wings…

I’m pretty sure if any of ‘em ever read a book on a train, three things would be true:

1. It would be upside down.
2. He’d be looking around to make sure he had admirers with camera phones…
3. …because he’s only “reading” in hopes that someone’s taking a picture of him for this IG account.

Yes, the abstract lap dance happening in my brain over boys reading books is far better.

Mystery reigns supreme.

And I know you’re waiting for me to make the obvious exception here:

… but the sexy cerebral selfie king takes his own snaps.