I had a crappy day. Overslept. Didn’t get enough accomplished at work. Felt fat and balding (which is exactly what I am.) Just getting over being sick, but still feeling icky. Bleh.
I pull up to a stop light after work, and sitting next to me are two youngish women in a Saturn. They’re probably 18-20, perky, very cute. As I glance over, the driver looks at me, smiles brightly, and says, “Hey there! How are you?”
Flirtatious little minx!
I smile and respond, “Oh, I’m fine. You?”
“Great! I love your car!”
“Thanks!” Blah blah blah. Light changes, they both give me a sunny little wave, and off they go.
Now I’m 33. Overweight. Balding. Thoroughly attached. I’m getting married in October. I wasn’t going to make any advances toward either of them. It was an incident that was basically going nowhere.
But afterwards, I couldn’t stop smiling. I was 15 feet tall.
I know how you feel. I’m fat too. And showing the early signs of baldness, but on the rare occasions when a pretty young female human is nice to me I’m on top of the world.
I guess the power they have is primeval. They are utterly clueless to the effect their gender, shape, and physical viscinity inflicts on the male brain.
snort No, we’re not. Every creepy jerk who hits on us makes sure we know that. But sometimes we just like playing with you. It’s so easy to manipulate the male brain, and so much fun!
The “power” flows both ways. I’m a married woman in my fifties, and I get a bit weak in the knees and damp in the pantaloons when cute college guys flirt with me (which still happens occasionally). I love my husband, but there is something indescribably delicious about being found interesting or desirable by a young hottie.
By the way I don’t mean to be chauvinistic (which I probably was. I can’t tell when I’m drunk)
Someone like me who never understood how other males could be within meters of females of the same species while maintaining control of their legs and brain is inexperienced in the art of saying the right, or even acceptable thing or things.
By the way I don’t mean to be chauvinistic (which I probably was. I can’t tell when I’m drunk)
Someone like me who never understood how other males could be within meters of females of the same species while maintaining control of their legs and brain is inexperienced in the art of saying the right, or even acceptable thing or things.
Just last weekend I had a 23yo little cutie grab me by the are and asked me to come sit with her and her friends. (I was at a bar/ I’m 34) Made my night.
On the other end of that:
I’ve always noticed that when I’m at work or out at a bar; womens eyes usually light up like christmas trees when you say to them “Hello ladies.” or “How y’all ladies doing tonight?” as opposed to “Hows y’all doing?” or “Hows it going” (Or some other variant.
Actually, I’ve found myself inordinately flattered and not unlike the OP (albeit muted) when chatted up by an extremely attractive woman (which has, regrettably, happened much more often than being chatted up by cute gay guys). Must be a genetic lizard-brain thing.
Don’t get me wrong – on the few occasions when an attractive young woman has taken an interest in me (this rarely happens, as they rarely have any notions about their chances that they have to be disabused of) I’ve felt quite deliciously flattered, but never the “gahbibble!” effect of being noticed by some gorgeous twink.
My husband is 45 years old, in pretty good shape and a truck driver.
When he gets tits flashed at him from ladies in cars, he’s the happiest guy in the world.
