Sausage With Feet
If you've read earlier posts of mine, you know I have a serious
problem with 'male pattern blindness': i.e., an inability to detect a
woman's sexual interest until it's too late. Well, here is yet another
example from two days ago. I hope that by chronicling AI's, IOI's and
FI's (fyck invitations), I hope first to be much quicker in detecting
them, and eventually hope to be able to close on them on a regular
basis. On to my report:
***Sausage With Feet***
3/9/06, 3 PM:
I know, the header is soooo romantic.
However, there is a lesson
to be learned here. I was doing some work late in the afternoon at a
cafe. A colleague of mine asked me why I didn't want to work in my
office instead. 'C'mon,' I'm thinking: 'why isolate myself when I
could be out and about surrounded by HB's?' Of course, I didn't say
that, I just told him I needed to get out of the office for a breath
of fresh air.
I sit down at a small table at a cafe in a busy section of town and
concentrate on my work intently for the first fifteen minutes. I
notice during this time that a HB blonde I've seen a couple days
earlier sits at a table a couple of feet away directly to my upper
left. I continue working. After about fifteen minutes, I look up
because my eyes are getting exhausted and I need to yawn and stretch.
I notice the blonde is now staring at me over her shoulder. However,
she is staring down, instead of looking into my eyes. However, she is
not looking straight down so that she's staring at my shoes.
'What the hell is she staring at?' I think. 'It must be something
really interesting because she's staring long and hard,' I'm thinking
to myself. 'I better find out what it is.' I follow her line of
sight....to her visual target. She is looking under my table. Yup, you
guessed the object of her desire/attention by my title: she's staring
directly at my crotch. Now, I'm wearing fitted jeans and as *I* look
down, I can see that the outline of my 'anatomy' is clearly visible as
I am seated. I look back up at her, feeling very embarrassed. I feel
'exposed' and vulnerable at this point (even though I'm fully
clothed), and I want her to stop. I stare into her eyes, half in
disbelief, half wanting her to stop, to hopefully make her feel
self-conscious about her behavior. She continues staring undeterred.
She doesn't care at all. It's almost as if she's hypnotized. Finally,
after I continue to glare, she turns away. Back to her conversation
with a local chode.
LESSON LEARNED:
Attraction is not a choice. This blonde MUST have known it's rude to
stare at a stranger, much less to stare at a stranger's crotch.
However, she continued to do so even after I reprimanded her with my
body language; by glaring at her.
a. I now understand why girls are constantly wearing tight jeans and
low cut blouses. If they are good looking or even if they simply have
a buxom figure, they are guaranteed to place a certain percentage of
men into an 'irrational' and highly suggestible state. They can play
you like a toy as you drool and focus on the possibility of having sex
with them.
b. If men could learn to decipher the same principles of attraction
and fashion, I believe that we can negate this advantage to some
degree and place women under our 'spell' on a strictly physical basis.
Now, women aren't nearly as suggestible, but based on this one
incident alone, I believe women are easily aroused and sometimes can
be just as shallow, horny, and loathsome as men, even male
construction crew workers, or regulars at a strip club.
Lesson learned 2: having been on the 'other side' of attraction now, I
can tell you this: if you MUST stare at a woman, especially a woman
you don't know, stare first into her eyes and SMILE. Try to respect
her humanity. Acknowledge that they are something more than a pair of
tits or a tight ass. I felt naked, exposed and vulnerable when this
girl stared at me. I wanted to cross my legs or simply cover my crotch
with my hand, but I had never been in this situation before and didn't
know what to do exactly.
Wolf
PS: I saw this girl three days earlier. She sat at a table in front of
me. We locked eyes and stared at each other for a few seconds. I made
no note of it whatsoever. Maybe by encountering me a second time she
felt more comfortable giving me a more sexually charged stare? Who knows.
