October 6, 2008
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Amazing Ability
For a few years now I've been a little psychic. I can't actually read minds or anything, not really. I can't predict to the letter what people will or won't do. I do know, however, with certain confidence, when a man will look at my behind. I don't remember when I first realized this, when it occured to me to look out of the corner of my eye as I walk away at the eyes of the man I may have just been speaking to or just so happened to walk by. I must have been fairly young though because I do it now without really realizing it, sort of like the involuntary scream that rips from me whenever I see a slug. It just happens.
I was sitting at the desk at the library today furiously typing away, when a man in army attire walked into the room. I looked up and gave him my pleasant but hasty smile, like I usually give anything that moves into the room while I'm not looking, and returned to the screen. He wandered around for a bit, occasionally looking in my direction, which I've come to learn really means "Hello. I have no idea where what I'm trying to find could possibly be. Could you help me?" In response to his unasked question I stood up, walked over to him and asked if he needed help with something. He proceeded to ask about books for both his six year old and his eleven year old children. I explained things a bit, walked him to a few shelves, told him about the catalogue computers, and then smiled and walked away. And there it was. It's as if I had a third eye. He followed me with his eyes, I'm fairly certain, until I sat down again.
I'm not offended. Not really. Not since the days of high school boys exclaiming "Damn she got a fat a$$!" while on my walk home to my apartment during my undergrad years. I've learned to take it all with a grain of salt. I've effectively prevented men from touching me as I walk by (an occurence that happens quite often in Philadelphia) and so since there are no longer men trailing their fingers over my inner elbows and forearms I suppose I'm ok. There is still, of course, the occasional butt graze in crowded rooms, and I've cultivated a very nasty look for just such occasions.
On his way out the gentleman paused to give me his card with both his cell and office numbers on it. Somehow I don't think his wife would be pleased (although perhaps he was just trying to recruit me, since his card says he's in recruiting and retention).
Comments (4)
I seldom get the backside stare, but I get the Manly Protector routine, I suppose because I am petite (a fancy way of saying I have no bosom to speak of). Men are forever grabbing my elbow or putting a hand to my back to save me from some menace (such as an octogenarian with a shopping cart or a car two blocks away). It can be annoying but it's also touching, in an odd way.
heh, well. . .
when it comes to booties, i've found that men are predictable. i always know when a man is about to turn around/stare at a girl's butt
Men... Mostly predictable creatures if you ask me. :::smh:::
ahem. I am here to defend men. Look I think if we do it in a polite way it shouldn't be frowned upon as much. I will say in my own defense that I do not just check out the butt. It is just one thing I might look at if a woman is attractive. It is never polite to stare or make a woman feel uncomfortable though. There really is an art to politely checking a woman out.
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