Ladies, I anticipate that many of you will be able to commiserate with me on this. It seems that no matter where I am - work, the grocery store, yoga class whatever - some man is staring at my chest.
Before you get the wrong idea, that I walk around alway with the ladies just hanging out for the world to see, let me reassure you. I don't. I make it point, whether because it was ingrained in me by my mother, the nuns at my Catholic girls' school, or both, to keep my chest covered. Understandably, there will be a few times when a little more cleavage is appropriate, necessary or unavoidable.
Still, it baffles me when I'll be wearing a button up oxford shirt, and the man I'm talking to periodically glances down at chest. I've racked my brain trying to think up explanations for this:
Maybe, he's like the kid from the movie Big. Even though he's in an adults body, he's really just a boy who is still just learning about these. Maybe I should check his briefcase for lunchables and send a PI to his apartment to see if it's filled with video games and a bunk bed, just to confirm.
Maybe, someone told him that boobs are like leprechauns in that they have magical powers and if you catch them doing their magic at just the right time, you get a pot of gold.
Maybe he's worried they'll disappear. After all, it is 2012. Armageddon is upon us and the world could open up at any moment and swallow all the boobs.
Whatever the reason you're looking at my chest, and everyone other woman's chest, guys - I'm pleading with you to stop. It's creepy.
No comments:
Post a Comment