So. I’m walking down the road the other day on my way to the bus stop when I am accosted by a youth. The guy was about 20, wearing a white wifebeater vest showing off numerous tattoos. He looked like a bit of a ragamuffin but non-threatening and quite cute in a rough-boy-probable-stoner kind of way. He asked if he could buy a cigarette (just the fact that he asked this should hint at his tender years); I refused and gave him one for free instead. The conversation then went on like this:
HIM: Cheers. Let me be the first to tell you that you don’t need to wear a bag like that to make your boobs bounce. You’ve got nice enough tits as it is…
He didn’t tail off. I walked away, shocked and horrified, hoping that I didn’t wobble on my heels in my haste to escape such embarrassment.
I cannot believe that a lad like that would even dream of saying this to a woman who is a good 7 or so years older than him and secondly, AS IF I was wearing my bag in that certain way (over my shoulder so the straps comes between my boobs – you know, the way most people wear shoulder bags) to draw attention to my breasts. Urgh. I felt like snatching the free fag back off him but I only just managed to skulk away with my face burning.
The next day, I was walking home from work, face hidden under an umbrella. I heard a man saying “you look amazing” – a nice thing to hear bearing in mind I was in my work clothes which, although fairly flattering, could never be called ‘amazing’. I lifted my brolly to check out the complimenter. He was about the same age as Mr P’s dad; white haired, bespectacled, wearing ill-fitting corduroy slacks.
I certainly do pick ’em, eh?