Originally published at Blogging Monique Renae. Please leave any comments there.
On and average workday I probably spend 70% of it staring at the women’s tata’s , which frankly, I do not care to see. Now don’t get me wrong, I do know how to appreciate a nice pair of boobies, just not when they are forced on me at my job. Women just bend over to pick up or put down their purse or hand me a box they have placed on the floor, and I get more than a simple flash. It’s full, bare breast in all their naked glory. Sometimes I can’t help to stare, which one day I am sure I will get busted doing, but for the most part I look away so quick I almost give myself whiplash.
You would think by now that I would be used to my free peep shows, but I am not. Each time it happens I am shocked. And oh, what the hell happened to the days where women wore bras? Am I one of a select few who still depend on my trusty over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder? Over half of my flashers aren’t wearing a bra! And that takes my shock to a whole ‘nother level.
Someone told me I wouldn’t complain as much if it were Angelina Jolie. That’s so not true, and not even the same thing. I can see her work anytime I want to by popping in a DVD or doing a Google search. My DH claims he would love to have my job – of course. But then I reminded him that it would be the equivalent of him constantly having male customer walking up with their dingle dangles hanging out. That’s a sight neither one of us wants to see.
He still wants my job though.
- I do not know this woman, never seen her… her picture was just on the interwebs so I figured she would be a good exampl [↩]
