Dear Sir:
When you are sitting in a chair and I am standing and you talk so softly that I have to bend over to hear what you're saying, I know that you're just being a jackass so that you can look down my shirt. I've talked to you many times before and I know you aren't a quiet person.
I really, really don't appreciate that and if you weren't a big wig and I weren't a lowly person and if your wife weren't the sweetest person in the room, I'd make a big, embarrassing scene. But, I'm sure you know that and that's why you did it to me and not, say, my boss.
If I want you to see my tits, I will take my shirt off in front of you or, more likely, I will bend down seductively over the seven layer bars and twist my torso ever so slightly so that I'm sure you get a good view of that cute freckle on the right one as you look up from the carrots.
But rest assured, that day, for you, dear jackass, will never come.
posted by Aunt B at 6/30/2005 07:16:00 AM
8 Comments:
Although it doesn't happen much any more, I used to get so irked when talking to a guy who kept staring at my boobs. "Up here, asshole" was my standard, if unoriginal, line.
well put, Aunt B.
Now, see, I differ from some folks in that, if your eyes drift down while we're talking, I don't mind, as long as they also drift back up.
It's hard to look folks in the face all the time and boobs are associated with all kinds of good things, so if you want to glance at mine for a little reassurance, go ahead.
Truth is, I'm doing the same thing ("Well, I may look like shit, but at least I have some nice boobs for him/her to look at. See, aren't you nice? Yes, yes you are.").
But the luring and the uninterrupted staring, that's what drives me crazy.
Though, Taketoshi, I haven't noticed if you do this or not, because I'm so busy staring at your crotch, I have no idea where you're looking.
I think in that situation I'd be tempted to say, very loudily, "What? I can't hear you! What did you say? You want me to lean over so you can see my breasts?"
I must say, Jo(e), I hope I get to use that line.
I hate boob starers. I don't have any. So I assume people are looking for them, not at them. Men AND women--caught 'em both lost on on the treasure hunt.
Sick pervs.
ha ha ha! good one!
When I was in high school someone had a tee shirt that said, "Don't stare, grow your own!"
As the spokesmen for rude men, we can't not look at boobs. Eye contact of course must be established at some point in the conversation, but eventually, inevitably, inexorably we are going to get a good look. Probably while you are talking. When Eve offered the apple to Adam, he was busy staring at her rack while she was talking and not fully comprehending that he was about to doom humanity to living with several millenia of religious guilt, sin and eventually polyester leisure suits.
Sorry about that. I thought you had something in your eye and was just trying to get a better look. Won't happen again.
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