Attention! All Random Men who stop me at Random Places to discuss Random Things!
Yes, I am a woman. Yes, you can confirm this by glancing briefly at my chest and seeing that I indeed do have breasts. Yes, you will freak me out if you continue to stare at said breasts the entire time you speak to me. Yes, you will freak me out further if you keep on talking and actually follow me though I am making obvious Bostonian moves to get away from you.
I'm not sure if you've stopped me to discuss Random Things because I look nice and approachable and you actually think I care that I look like someone you went to high school with, or that you once lived in the state that my license plate depicts, or that you knew someone who went to a school that sort of sounds like the school from my sweatshirt.
Or maybe you've stopped me because you thought I looked nice and approachable but then you realized that you really enjoyed staring at my breasts, so you just kept talking in the vain hope that I would stand there longer, and you could continue to stare.
Or maybe you even stopped to hit on me. I know I'm 31, married, and the mother of two, but it could happen. Maybe once you were transfixed by my hypnotic breasts you forgot your pick up line and just started rambling.
Or maybe, you noticed my breasts first off, and started talking to me, in the vain hope that a sudden wind would suddenly whip off my shirt, and bra, and well, you wouldn't want to look away from my breasts for one second and miss that spectacle.
But regardless of your reason, please, dear Random Men who stop me in Random Places to talk about Random Things...at least make an attempt to look in my eyes. They're these green things, surrounded by lashes, somewhere about a foot above where you're staring. At least that way I won't have to stare at your Random Bald Spots.
Thank you, and goodnight.
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