Scopin’ the View

[readermail]Dear Pamie,

Short time reader, first time caller.

Can girls tell when I’m checking out their breasts? I’ve developed a technique that I feel meets all stealth criteria, but it’s hard to be sure without about this without starting a conversation that, frankly, can’t go anywhere but straight up my ass. It seems to me that, what with all the breast-checking that guys do, most every woman in the world would have a radar for this sort of thing.

I avoid these situations by asking a stranger about my moral problems via email, where I am shielded violent response. I appreciate honesty and a quick response – don’t worry about offending me, I’m a big enough man to be called a child, if you get my meaning.

Signed,
Alex

P.S. Am I sick if I watch other guys check a girl out to gage and, often, berate their technique? Thanks again.
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The space between a woman’s eyes and her breasts is roughly a foot and a half. So, yes, if you’re standing right in front of her staring at her ta-ta’s, she totally knows. The only time this becomes a problem is if she doesn’t want you checking out her rack.

I had a teacher in college who never made eye contact with any female student ever. He thought he was sly because he tried the “Lean Back” method, where he would tilt his head back, slink back against his chair and cross his leg high over his thigh. It also caused him to rub his ass while he talked to you, which meant he was staring at your boobs, rubbing his ass. This teacher no longer works for the University of Texas.

Some men attempt the “Can I Get You Something Else” move, where they lean over you and ask if you need something, hoping you’ll look up (as people often do when they think — did you know people look up to remember a time, and look down to remember a name? Something about looking down as if you’re reading the name and up to see the calendar in your head.). Then as you look up, they look down your shirt. But sometimes I don’t want anything else, so you end up standing there three extra seconds, hoping I’ll look up anyway, maybe to reminisce things I was brought by helpful people in the past. That three seconds is when I know you were hoping to cop a scope.

My favorite is the “I’m Just Reading Your T-Shirt” move. Y’all are some slow-ass readers.

I know that if I do any of the following, you’re going to stare at my chest. There’s nothing I can do about it, and I just have to hope you like what you see.

  • Lean back to get something behind me.
  • Take off my jacket.
  • Take off a sweater, especially when my t-shirt rides up just a bit inside my sweater. (That’s the one that causes you to lift up from your seat just a bit, your mouth opening. Do you guys really think we can’t see you? We aren’t blinded when our arms go over our heads.)
  • When I somehow get food on my chest (or some kind of stain, because I’m a slob), and I’m trying to clean it up without anyone seeing me.
  • If I’m in a room with you.

The bottom line is you’re going to look and all of the techniques are equally lame. I know this. You know this. So, the question is, does she want you checking her out? Because then you get to look without guilt.

Jai, the unnecessary ten minutes of Queer Eye, said it best when he demonstrated how women touch where they want you to look. Here’s how you know a girl likes her boobs and she likes it when you look right tharrrre.

  • She plays with her necklace. This has a bonus feature of creating a bit of cleavage for the smaller-chested gals. You can tell she’s trying to make an upper swell if she keeps her elbows close to her sides and looks like she’s cold or shrugging.
  • She leans in to talk to you. And then she lifts her head back to laugh and laugh and laugh, exposing her soft neck and vulnerable sternum, giving you ample time to check out the twins.
  • She is purposefully showing her bra strap. We learned it when Molly Ringwald rubbed her chin on her strap when trying to stare at Jake Ryan in class. We haven’t forgotten the powerful tool one flash of elastic band can be.
  • She keeps her arms crossed UNDER her boobs, and leans forward. If the arms are crossed over the boobs, she doesn’t want you looking, she thinks she’s a big-boobed freak, and she’s tired of all the damn jokes people make when she gets in a bathing suit. She’d like to be treated like a normal person. But if she’s pushing them up on a forearm platter, she’s making an offering. A display.
  • If she’s one of those big-nippled-no-bra-wearing girls. I don’t know if this is an LA thing, but man there’s nipple everywhere, under sheer shirts or strappy tops. Women have turned their chests into living Lite Brites, with knobs and switches that could put out an eye. Women don’t accidentally nip out like that. She wants you to look and she knows you can’t say anything. She’s doing it on purpose to drive you crazy. I hate her.

I suppose it’s okay to check out other men’s techniques.

stee just impressed me with his two techniques:

“Sunglasses are good. I have been known to put on sunglasses in the dark.”

Then he did this move that was so good, I didn’t even know he was doing it. He leaned back and inhaled and then went into a big stretch, clasping his hands, palms out, and then put his arms in front of his face like he was rounding his back. His eyes were sheilded by his hands, and I couldn’t see that he was staring at my chest. I thought he was stretching.

I like it when sentences sound meek. “I thought he was stretching!”

You could also get a dog. Girls lean down to pet dogs. Or get a baby. Girls hold babies to their chest.

DON’T THROW A FOOTBALL AT A GIRL’S CHEST.

Another sneaky tactic is to ask a girl if she knows when boys are looking at her chest. Then you get to look at them as an “example” of being “obvious” and then get to test out other “techniques.”

Much like if you wanted a girl to talk about boobies for five minutes, perhaps write an essay about them, you’d send her a letter requesting her opinion on chest-gazing.

Pretty sneaky, Alex.

Currently Reading

  • Generation X. I’m starting to see that there might not be a story in this story, and just other stories told by people who may or may not have been in the room when the story was happening.

Please donate a book to Oakland

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