Okay, it’s about time someone spoke up about a particular problem in our society. Don’t tune out – I’m not going to bombard you with more information on AIDS, tobbaco company attrocities, or the plight of unwed mothers. These are all fine causes, but they have enough champions without my tiny little soapbox. I’m here today writing to you about the female chest. Less broadly speaking, their breasts. Now, hold on, I’m not saying that female breasts per se are a problem. It’s the unfair way in which females call attention to them that causes unsuspecting men (usually me) to get in trouble. Unsuspecting men who may not even be ogling at them (yes, sometimes – rarely, but sometimes – we’re not actually just staring at women’s breasts and praying for x-ray vision).
Now, women, I’m not saying that men don’t look at your breasts. We do. We take every opportunity we can get to look at them. However, there are times when we actually are innocent. Here’s a recent example for you… A female friend of mine and I were sitting up talking. She was wearing a t-shirt with characatures of the characters from X-Files. Well, I’m a fan of the show, and the shirt caught my eye. So, throughout our conversation I find I’m trying to figure out which characature is which character from the show. So, I’m staring blatantly at her left breast – then her right breast – then dead center between them. Back forth, back forth. Now, mind you, I’m not thinking about anything beyond the cartoon characters on the shirt – Scout’s Honor! At a certain point I went to ask her a question about one of the t-shirt images and I realized I couldn’t even ask the question or I’d be calling out the fact that I’m obviously staring at her chest. It’s like, “Excuse me, but could you stretch your shirt a little more tight over your left bosom so that I might better make out the satirical nature of your wardrobe?” Yeah, and this is the part where her husband comes in and kicks my innocent ass.
So, I end up jumping right in with, “Jen, I’m not actually staring at your breasts, but can you identify the character on your shirt an inch to the left of your left teat?” Err… quickly followed by, “Not that I can see your left teat. I mean where your left teat would be if indeed I were looking at it, which of course I’m not – I’m just looking at your shirt.” Then followed almost as quickly (with typical male reasoning that saying you’re not looking at a women’s breasts might be tantamount to insult), “Not that I wouldn’t look at your breasts, but in this particular case, I’m only looking at your shirt.” Sigh. And all I wanted to do was pay tribute to a shirt she chose for what I’m assuming she thought was interesting content for others to view. Others to view – so long as others aren’t male and aren’t staring at her tits.
In the end Jen was pretty cool about the whole thing and even gave me a guided tour of the shirt – that is, pointing out the characatures and telling me which one represented each of the X-Files characters. Pretty cool – but it would have been SO much easier if they had just put the pictures on the back! And with that out of the way, we could continue our conversation unencumbered by the normal male inclination for breast watching.
Except for that necklace she was wearing hanging down on the outside of the t-shirt. Was that a pendant of a monkey? Maybe if I stared a little closer…