I'm a woman who, unfortunately, physically takes after her mother. Not too tall, high-arched feet, more than ample hips, and unnecessarily large breasts. It's this last feature that prompted this post, although I'm sure many less-overly-endowed women have the exact same complaint. It's been bugging me for years now. Am I complaining about the bra-strap trenches on my shoulders, the headaches caused by carrying the weight of young children on my chest, the second mortgage I had to take out on my house to afford a really good bra, or the fact that most blouse designers figure anyone who would buy their clothing must be an A cup? No. I'm talking about Boobtalkers.
What is a "Boobtalker" you ask? A Boobtalker is a man who, while holding a conversation with a woman, talks half to her face and half to her boobs. Does the Boobtalker think we can't tell the difference? Does he think we can't see his eyes repeatedly drop the 10-12 inches from our eyes? Does he think this is flattering? Does he think the boobs are fascinated by his conversation skills? Does he expect them to answer? AAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!
Seriously, guys. Women hate this. Hate. It. I really don't really care if you sneak a glance -- that's human nature. Maybe you're just checking out my necklace or something. Fine. But after that glance, leave it alone. Stop looking. I don't wear low-cut blouses or shirts two sizes too small to highlight the girls. I'm not seeking any attention for them, so leave them alone.
Here at Widget Co, most of my clients are men. Young, old, married, etc, they run the gamut. I would estimate that 20% of my clients and male coworkers are Boobtalkers. Some to a greater extent than others. With some, it's just a quick glance every 15 seconds; maybe this type of guy is just worried that something happened to them while he took a break to look at my eyes. With others, it's half a conversation directed at them. This is so utterly disrespectful and creepy that I actually find myself crossing my arms to protect them from further looks. I shouldn't have to do this!!
From now on, I'm going to call the Boobtalkers on it. I've done it before, just not here at work, but I've had enough. Stop the Boobtalkers ladies!! Fight back. Either call them on it or direct your conversation to their chests. Maybe they'll get the idea. Probably not....
Meandering Through the Desert Botanical Garden
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