for the men, part three
This is an unexpected continuation to my posts a few days ago about men talking to your chest. As it occurred today, the man was talking to my face, about my chest. Same difference.I was on my way home from Sainsbury's carrying two bags of food when a male, walking towards me, said as I passed by, 'Excuse me.'
I stopped walking and said, 'Yes?'
'Nice titties.'
I stood there gaping at him for a split second, unsure if I had actually heard correctly. Then he grinned and I blinked at him, once, twice maybe, and promptly dashed off. I can assure you that I was not dressed provocatively in any way; in fact, I was wearing a sensible and rather dowdy turtleneck top with no sleeves, and a pair of ratty jeans (ahem - my typical day-off outfit), carrying groceries for God's sake.
My point is this. Women - if unfortunate accidents like these ever happen to you, get the hell away. Fast.
Men - please don't. Just don't.
L'Esthete @ 17:20
