I do a lot of people watching as I make my way through airports and today was no different. I figure if you take the time to put on a pithy saying then I for one will read it. I always try to smile even if I don’t like or get the joke. Everyone wants audience appreciation.
Today was no different and as I was on the Terminal 1 people mover I noticed an odd one coming toward me on the opposite belt. As everyone walks this decreasing my overall read time I needed to concentrate and this one looked like it would be a puzzler. (Please take a deep mental breath after that horrendous run on sentence)
A middle aged woman with bolt on enhancements covered in a tight white T-shirt that appeared to have a stop sign over each asset. When she got close I read “STOP STARING AT MY TITS!” As soon as I read it my eyes shot up to the face above and I wasn’t even faking a smile.
She just looked at me with a disgusted disapproving scowl. I looked away as we passed but then I got pissed. I consider myself relatively enlightened and I in fact work with a lot of women who feel less than in the workplace. But it’s hard doing battle with human nature.
The trap was set as soon as she squeezed herself into that shirt I was just one in a long line of stupid men to step in it. These are confusing times for someone trying to do the right thing. My brain is in a pretzel.
And while I’m voicing my confusion, what in the hell am I supposed to do about an obviously expensive necklace with diamonds refracting light deep in a cleavage canyon? The people who wear those outfits have to know how low the shirts are cut and where the focal point of the jewelry lines up.
If I were to sew a diamond encrusted broach to the fly of my jeans I would be pretty pissed if eyes weren’t landing on my junk. I need to ask the pound sign me too people for a list of guidelines because I have things that need mental sorting.