Lunchtime Objections

A little lunchtime conversation was turned on its red-hot-sex-me heels today. Meeting with R & A.D. in Bryant Park today and lookie what we talked about. 

It started innocently enough, and I don't know who brought it up. Maybe I was discussing my aggressively strappy shoes (because foot circulation is so 2007). Maybe we were talking about cupcakes (Crumbs v. Magnolia...no this was later). Oh! I remember, an overweight woman left her expensive handbag on a B.P. table, and when she had come back to retrieve it, R noticed she needed some support in the boobular area. A.D. starts it off. 

I remember I had a less-than-supportive day once. I started sprinting down the street and a BUM, a bum! yells "bouncing, bouncing, BOUNCING!" Well needless to say I was holding my boobs up for the rest of the run. 

I continued, with a story from last week. 

I was helping my boy's parents with their luggage and as we were walking down the street, I hear "you got a nice little body for a white girl". He continued, essentially screaming at me as I walked by: "how bout I take you home and give it to you better than your husband!"

I think we all have many such stories. Disclose, anonymously, at femasculist@gmail.com.