How could a television show about six single dudes in New York City who chase skirts, eat hot wings, sit around a smelly poker table and roll cigars possibly appeal to women? In many ways. Oh, so many ways.
Seriously, ladies. Turn off the “Sex and the City” reruns. Sexy-version Aiden isn’t going to build you a custom armoire anytime soon. You need to clear your schedule and get caught up on the Esquire Network’s new original series, “Lucky Bastards” — pronto.
In April, Esquire Network (the former Style Network that relaunched in September 2013) premiered the 10-episode series. The premise of “Lucky Bastards” is simple: follow six highly eligible and financially buff bachelors around Manhattan for a while and see what madness ensues.
The no-holds-barred, balls-out attitude of this posse makes for some great, entertaining television. When that’s paired with nothing-to-lose, guy-to-guy, wink-wink-nudge-nudge commentary, it’s a veritable overflowing fountain of insider intel that every single gal needs to take a nice long, hot shower in. Bring a loofah — you’re gonna need it.
The best way for modern women to find the genius in this show (besides the cute smiles and occasionally bare chests), is to realize it’s a celebration of men being men — unapologetically. Now at the halfway point in the series, we’ve seen that the situations are real and sometimes dirty, often crass and even distasteful. In a world otherwise filled with emasculating male-bashing, hate-filled blogs and television shows, I find “Lucky Bastards” refreshing and illuminating. But I’ve got thick skin and I’m open-minded; plus I want to learn. As they say: When the student is ready, the teacher appears.
My six new favorite professors are a group of old friends who range in age from 33 to 45. They’re not the ridiculous caricatures of men we often see on TV these days. They’re real, they’re savvy and they’re deal closers. Their personalities and business pursuits are quite varied, but their chemistry and camaraderie are undeniable and often combustible. There’s just enough douche-baggery to earn the “bastard” badge, but no one’s faster to call them out on it than one of their own — usually delivered in a swift, harsh, “don’t-be-a-dick” verbal swipe. The “lucky” comes in because they’re rich, well-educated, business savvy, good looking and well-spoken (proper grammar is always sexy). Here they are: