Excuse me, Is my nipple showing?
Setting: The local community college campus in a small out of the way conference room
Time: Early evening
Goal: Endure a pointless introduction to a crap class I'm taking online
So there I was, one of the first to arrive, blissfully enraptured in the latest edition to one of my favorite series, when a seemingly aimless student pops his head in the door.
"Is this for French," he asked in one of those suave sounding accents.
I looked up and nodded with a "look-I-got-a-new-book" grin. "Yup." And then tucked my face back between the pages, completely ignoring him as he worked his way into the seat directly across from mine.
Minutes pass by. The teacher appears. More students filter in. The meeting starts. My eyes wander dreamily back toward my purse and the book I left off at page 37. The teacher starts babbling about who-knows-what on some page in some syllabus I'm supposed to be studying but can't seem to find the energy, when the suave foreign student raises his hand and asks a question about French being related to Russian. I smoothly turn an unlady-like bark of laughter into a "help-I'm-choking-on-my-gum" fit.
He glances over at me as I recover. I, like some newbie to the dating game, actually make eye-contact. Big mistake. He smiles, his eyes drifting from my face to my boobs back to my face and then back to my boobs before they lock like some sort of tatta-seeking missile. Then his seemingly friendly grin turns into some hot, promise of foreign lust. It was the most blatant case of eye-fucking I have yet to encounter. I nearly dropped my pen. His smile clearly said, "What are you doing later? Are you occupying anyone else's bed in oh, say, 20-minutes? I'm free. Are you free? For sex. Lots and lots of sex? With some foreign kid who's name you can most likely not pronounce?"
I quickly looked away hiding my sudden urge to flee the room with my books firmly covering my chest.
I called Chris on immediate departure from the class with only one short message, "I just got eye-fucked. Hard."
Setting: In transit. Returning from 1st Eye-Fucking-Adventure.
Time: About an hour after initial Eye-Fucking
Goal: Get the hell back to work before I get lost
While putzing along in my sweet little ride, I was busily dialing a friend when I happened to glance over my shoulder at the total piece of shit stalling next to me at the red-light. There, perched in a hatchback the size of one of those plastic race-car beds, is an aging Hell's Angel reject with wrap-around Oakley knockoffs.
Not only was he the atypical "wrecked my Harley had to take Mom's ride to work" kind of guy, but he also was oh, I'd say a good twenty-years my senior. A tattooed Mr. Clean with a jail-bait fetish. He gave me one of those feisty, "I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off-but-I'm-going-for-the-sophisticated-Bond-look" smiles and then promptly through his chin up in the air in the classic racer, "Whazupppppppp!"
My jaw dropped. The asshole actually had the balls to sit up in his seat so he could do the once over. Which, when you're sitting down and partially concealed by the side of a CAR, means he got to about my boobs and stopped. What the fuck!
I stepped on the gas as the light changed and cut the asshole off. That's right. See if you can ogle the boobs from back there. Bitch.
Setting: Blockbuster
Time: Late
Goal: Pick out a movie without being raped!
Wandering harmlessly through Blockbuster looking for the newest Underworld (another obsession I'll probably babble about later) when I turned the corner to nearly run over some helpless fellow patron in my quest for nearly naked werewolves. Guy looks up from the back cover of some piece-of-crap chickflick (he probably didn't think I noticed but I so did) then glances back down absently.
I'm working my way past him when he suddenly jerks his head back up and rotates it on his neck like an owl so he can watch me pass. I turned to glare at him and he grinned back completely unabashed. But I will give him credit. He did keep eye contact while I was glaring.
He did however follow me to the counter without another glance to the movie he was carrying. Good. I hope he's stuck explaining that movie to all his male friends.
Setting: Blockbuster counter
Time: Minutes after initial confrontation at Blockbuster
Goal: RENT my movie without being raped!
I won't go into the details because I've suddenly developed a killer headache right between my eyeballs. But needless to say the little guy at the counter who looked just old enough to drive was shamelessly trying to flirt with me. Thankfully, the Blockbuster account is under both I and Boyfriend's names. I did the, "Oh. That's my boyfriend. He's really big. And manly. And over protective. He practically pees circles around me."
And then I cutely tossed a few more exaggerated facts towards the creepy grinning man who'd followed me from New Releases and was now standing directly behind me.
Setting: HyVee Grocery Store
Time: About half-an-hour after the Blockbuster fiasco
Goal: Walk my happy-soy-eating-ass out the automatic doors
With my arms weighed down by two, crappily packed (Thanks HyVEE!!!) grocery bags, and slightly preoccupied with a minor-Chris-crisis, I was making my way toward the OUT door when this big guy came barreling though the IN door. Like any animal sighting some large mass heading directly toward them I had two options: A) make myself as small as possible or B) try to stabilize for the imminent impact. Me, I apparently try for option B, which at the moment meant throwing my arms out in both directions and planting my feet like a football player pushing one of those padded things across the field.
Mr. Guy suddenly seemed to realize he was about to commit non-vehicular-homicide and jerked to a stop inches from my nose. He then (I SWEAR TO GOD I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP) looked down the front of my body, which was impressive considering his nose was nearly pressed into mine and his hair was itching my forehead, and then looked back up at me (by which I mean my face) and smiled.
"Ello, senorita. Hows are u's doing dis evening?"
My arms plopped back down to my side, the rush of adrenaline completely failing to keep my groceries suspended any longer, and shouldered him aside.
I stomped out the double OUT doors and spotted a little old woman working her way in the opposite direction. I marched up to her in all my righteous fury and demanded to know if my nipple was showing.
Her mouth fell open so wide I could tell she wore dentures. She didn't answer. Just stared up at me.
I asked again, "Well is it?!" She shrugged, not even glancing down to my boobs.
Obviously she wasn't going to be much help. I stomped back to my car, feeling thoroughly manhandled.
Eye-fucked 5x's in one day. The math alone is staggering. I'm exhausted.
Time: Early evening
Goal: Endure a pointless introduction to a crap class I'm taking online
So there I was, one of the first to arrive, blissfully enraptured in the latest edition to one of my favorite series, when a seemingly aimless student pops his head in the door.
"Is this for French," he asked in one of those suave sounding accents.
I looked up and nodded with a "look-I-got-a-new-book" grin. "Yup." And then tucked my face back between the pages, completely ignoring him as he worked his way into the seat directly across from mine.
Minutes pass by. The teacher appears. More students filter in. The meeting starts. My eyes wander dreamily back toward my purse and the book I left off at page 37. The teacher starts babbling about who-knows-what on some page in some syllabus I'm supposed to be studying but can't seem to find the energy, when the suave foreign student raises his hand and asks a question about French being related to Russian. I smoothly turn an unlady-like bark of laughter into a "help-I'm-choking-on-my-gum" fit.
He glances over at me as I recover. I, like some newbie to the dating game, actually make eye-contact. Big mistake. He smiles, his eyes drifting from my face to my boobs back to my face and then back to my boobs before they lock like some sort of tatta-seeking missile. Then his seemingly friendly grin turns into some hot, promise of foreign lust. It was the most blatant case of eye-fucking I have yet to encounter. I nearly dropped my pen. His smile clearly said, "What are you doing later? Are you occupying anyone else's bed in oh, say, 20-minutes? I'm free. Are you free? For sex. Lots and lots of sex? With some foreign kid who's name you can most likely not pronounce?"
I quickly looked away hiding my sudden urge to flee the room with my books firmly covering my chest.
I called Chris on immediate departure from the class with only one short message, "I just got eye-fucked. Hard."
Setting: In transit. Returning from 1st Eye-Fucking-Adventure.
Time: About an hour after initial Eye-Fucking
Goal: Get the hell back to work before I get lost
While putzing along in my sweet little ride, I was busily dialing a friend when I happened to glance over my shoulder at the total piece of shit stalling next to me at the red-light. There, perched in a hatchback the size of one of those plastic race-car beds, is an aging Hell's Angel reject with wrap-around Oakley knockoffs.
Not only was he the atypical "wrecked my Harley had to take Mom's ride to work" kind of guy, but he also was oh, I'd say a good twenty-years my senior. A tattooed Mr. Clean with a jail-bait fetish. He gave me one of those feisty, "I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off-but-I'm-going-for-the-sophisticated-Bond-look" smiles and then promptly through his chin up in the air in the classic racer, "Whazupppppppp!"
My jaw dropped. The asshole actually had the balls to sit up in his seat so he could do the once over. Which, when you're sitting down and partially concealed by the side of a CAR, means he got to about my boobs and stopped. What the fuck!
I stepped on the gas as the light changed and cut the asshole off. That's right. See if you can ogle the boobs from back there. Bitch.
Setting: Blockbuster
Time: Late
Goal: Pick out a movie without being raped!
Wandering harmlessly through Blockbuster looking for the newest Underworld (another obsession I'll probably babble about later) when I turned the corner to nearly run over some helpless fellow patron in my quest for nearly naked werewolves. Guy looks up from the back cover of some piece-of-crap chickflick (he probably didn't think I noticed but I so did) then glances back down absently.
I'm working my way past him when he suddenly jerks his head back up and rotates it on his neck like an owl so he can watch me pass. I turned to glare at him and he grinned back completely unabashed. But I will give him credit. He did keep eye contact while I was glaring.
He did however follow me to the counter without another glance to the movie he was carrying. Good. I hope he's stuck explaining that movie to all his male friends.
Setting: Blockbuster counter
Time: Minutes after initial confrontation at Blockbuster
Goal: RENT my movie without being raped!
I won't go into the details because I've suddenly developed a killer headache right between my eyeballs. But needless to say the little guy at the counter who looked just old enough to drive was shamelessly trying to flirt with me. Thankfully, the Blockbuster account is under both I and Boyfriend's names. I did the, "Oh. That's my boyfriend. He's really big. And manly. And over protective. He practically pees circles around me."
And then I cutely tossed a few more exaggerated facts towards the creepy grinning man who'd followed me from New Releases and was now standing directly behind me.
Setting: HyVee Grocery Store
Time: About half-an-hour after the Blockbuster fiasco
Goal: Walk my happy-soy-eating-ass out the automatic doors
With my arms weighed down by two, crappily packed (Thanks HyVEE!!!) grocery bags, and slightly preoccupied with a minor-Chris-crisis, I was making my way toward the OUT door when this big guy came barreling though the IN door. Like any animal sighting some large mass heading directly toward them I had two options: A) make myself as small as possible or B) try to stabilize for the imminent impact. Me, I apparently try for option B, which at the moment meant throwing my arms out in both directions and planting my feet like a football player pushing one of those padded things across the field.
Mr. Guy suddenly seemed to realize he was about to commit non-vehicular-homicide and jerked to a stop inches from my nose. He then (I SWEAR TO GOD I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP) looked down the front of my body, which was impressive considering his nose was nearly pressed into mine and his hair was itching my forehead, and then looked back up at me (by which I mean my face) and smiled.
"Ello, senorita. Hows are u's doing dis evening?"
My arms plopped back down to my side, the rush of adrenaline completely failing to keep my groceries suspended any longer, and shouldered him aside.
I stomped out the double OUT doors and spotted a little old woman working her way in the opposite direction. I marched up to her in all my righteous fury and demanded to know if my nipple was showing.
Her mouth fell open so wide I could tell she wore dentures. She didn't answer. Just stared up at me.
I asked again, "Well is it?!" She shrugged, not even glancing down to my boobs.
Obviously she wasn't going to be much help. I stomped back to my car, feeling thoroughly manhandled.
Eye-fucked 5x's in one day. The math alone is staggering. I'm exhausted.
Labels: All things Vagina
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