An Attractive Option

Okay, let's say you are walking down the street. The street is in a residential neighborhood. Cars line the street. Children ride their scooters and you find yourself scooting around abandoned bicycles lying on the sidewalk. Let's say you are wearing blue jeans (just normal ones that you bought at Old Navy - not the hot ones that you bought at American Eagle that always make your boyfriend drool), a regular t-shirt, and minimal makeup. You have on sunglasses because the sun is pouring down. You are simply walking.

Now let's say that a small sedan, filled with youngish looking men, suddenly screaches down the street. You smile, because it's funny. Boys being boys. There's something so naive about it. Teenagers being young in the summertime. It's sweet. But then they start honking and following you. It's no longer cute and you hie as quickly as you can to your destination.

Now let's say you reach your destination - a mass transit center. And let's say that you walk swiftly past a man wearing a red shirt and black slacks in order to reach a bench where you pull out your paperback and sit down to laugh at Bill Bryson's adventures in the woods, when you notice that the man you had walked by is staring at you. You look down at your book, while casually wiping your nose (hey, it could happen to you!) and looking down at your shirt to make sure there is no spilled milk on your shirt.

So, now imagine that you have no idea what the man is staring at. Maybe he's interested in your book. Maybe your shoelace is untied. But when you stand up, he is still staring. As you sit down on the train, this man is also in your car, but he stops staring. You read. Then, as you get off the train, the man whistles and mumbles something that sounds like "hey baby," but could be, "I'm a moron who thinks that women enjoy being ogled on the train," or, quite possibly, "my mother is proud of my honor roll status."

Was it the t-shirt?