When do you know that somebody is just looking “too much”? I counted five very obvious looks, as I was doing nothing other than eating a Ceasar Salad Bowl at Pollo Loco and reading the Times. Do I look like a terrorist or something?
What should one say if it seems inappropriate?
“You lookin’ at me?”??
Could they have been flirting?
I had this happen the other day.
I live in a not-so-nice part of Los Angeles, and was parking my car at night (about 10 PM).
A young man in a black hoodie walked by and made some very shifty glances at me, repeatedly and deliberately. I felt like they had an air of: “Is he white? Check. Is he alone? Check.” He then walked around the corner out of sight.
So I decided to just turn off the lights and leave the engine running for a minute, and waited in my car. Not 30 seconds later, the same young man came back around the corner and started walking down the opposite side of the street. At this point, I realized “I know you did not just forget where you were going”.
I drove off to park on an entirely different street and walk a different way back home. Problem averted.
I had one the other day at a store.
I was standing in line behind a couple. The woman looks over her shoulder, glances at my purchases. She turns back, mutters something to her husband, then they both turn and look at my purchases. Neither of them make eye contact, both are smiling broadly.
I look at my purchases, being 
. In my arms I have a few silly little things for the St. Paddy’s Day Exchange on this board, like green glitter, etc., and some Junior Mints. I run through a checklist in my mind: Am I wearing Indian clothes? No. Is there a giant hairy spider on me? No. Am I drooling? No.
I still don’t know what was so odd about my purchases. And if they had made eye contact, I probably would have made a joking comment. But it was just so weird.
Maybe they were looking at your tits.
Most of the time I believe it’s because you may look familiar or remind them of someone.
Other times, it’s an attraction/flirting thing.
Could be what you’re wearing. You’re either stylin’ or you got dressed in the dark this morning.
Might be that green piece of lettuce in your teeth from lunch.
Or your zipper is down.
Or they’re sociopaths and they always stare at their next victim. RUN!!!
My husband and I were at breakfast a couple weeks ago. A family sat at the booth across the aisleway. The adults were probably late 30s. Kids were peripubescent. (9-14)
The mom was seated so she faced me, at an angle, Not direct sightline.
Now, I’m overweight, but I don’t think I’m grotesque, and I’m nearly 60 years old, so I think I deserve a little indulgence now and then. My breakfast wasn’t unusual in either size or content.
That woman stared at me or my plate, with a look of absolute disgust for a full minute!
Finally, I turned my body just a bit, as if I were going to get up. I put my hands on the table and leaned slightly toward the woman, and stared directly into her eyes.
I meant to look confrontational enough to let her know she was being rude. She turned red and didn’t look our way again. My husband couldn’t decide to laugh or cry. He said I didn’t embarrass him, but I’m afraid I might have.
:rolleyes:
I started getting this ever since I got a leather jacket. It must make me look like a thug, so people think I’m up to no good. But really, I’m a nice guy, trying to make the world a better place. Just like Fonzie.
This made me giggle.
But I was wearing slacks, so no zipper. I find it hard to believe btoh were flirting! Hadn’t had lunch, so no lettuce.
And they’d be hard-pressed to try and look at my chest; considering how cold it’s been around here, I wore a big comfy sweater yesterday.
A lot of Indian people look at me, then look at the SO, then back at me with disapproval, then back at him with curious looks. I encourage him to try and lick his eyebrows when they’re looking. 
People stare at me all the time. They even slow down their vehicles to get an extra-long look.
But then, I live in a very conservative Mormon town, and I walk like I have a penis, wear black, and have funny-colored hair. So whatever.
Maybe your perceptive powers are greater than you ever imagined!
Funny.
I get stared at all the time & have my whole life. To the extent that people with me notice and comment on it.
Usually, I don’t look particularly weird; I’m not gorgeous and I’m not hideously ugly. I also get people stopping me and asking for directions, the time, or telling me I look just like someone they know. I’m also the one people will start chatting to in grocery store lines.
It’s odd. My theory is, I have an approachable look, or maybe a face that has common enough features I tend to look like other people. I dunno.
I didn’t know there was a disntictive penis-walk. What does it look like? I mean are we talking about a swagger, or what?
A couple years ago, this guy was doing this. I was in Target, and he just kept looking, and NOT in a happy way.
He finally stops me and asks me my name. I tell him and he says he’s sorry, but I look just like a guy that beat up his sister and left her partially paralyzed 20 years ago.
I’d have preferred to have lettuce on my teeth.
I get this a lot. Usually, there’s an obvious reason.
When I have a long ride on public transit, and I don’t expect it to be too crowded, I take with a project to work on. This leads to things like dishevelled man with long hair-
Sewing some oddd thing from irridescent yarn and occasionally muttering “Courage, courage.” and “Put 'em up.”
Wearing an oddly styled bathrobe over his clothes and sketching strange shapes in a notebook.
Wearing a thing that is a cross between a bathrobe and a tuxedo jacket, and sewing something from matching fabric.
Putting the finishing touches on a Patrick Star of felt.
And, the classic sewing up holes in trenchcoat without taking it off first.
I’m always surprised that almost none of the people I notice staring will actually ask me what I’m doing. I’ve also found that people will give me a lot more space. This is not fear of being accidentally cut or poked, or being covered in fabric bits. Somehow, working on a stuffed animal or costume seems to convince other passengers that I am insane and possibly dangerous. Fortunately, kids are not afraid to say “Mister, what are you making?”.
Maybe they’re just looking at that huge red mark running down the side of your neck?
For those in the dark - linky
I don’t know, just, you know, like there’s something extra in my crotch. Pretty much like any guy. Plus I don’t swing my hips very much. It’s just not efficient.
Har, har.
Heh. When I see someone making something odd, I nearly always ask what they’re making. 99 times out of 100, they’ll tell me, and I might even learn a new craft. Of course, I always have my Staff of Attitude Adjustment with me in public, and people frequently come up to me and compliment me on it. It has braided leather thongs with beads on them, and a small fringed leather pouch which contains a couple of quarters, and a card with my name, phone number, and medical problems.
I’m not sure if it was just my imagination, but on the Tube in August last year I thought I was getting a lot of funny looks - lone South Asian guy travelling on the Tube with a rucksack = bad. Didn’t help that I’d just got off a 14-hour flight, so I was scruffy and a tad unshaven.
I tend to just ignore it, but sometimes it’s terribly uncomfortable. I usually either move or stare back at them with a slightly cynical twist of lips and eyebrow. Tends to work.
I bartend, so in many ways while working I am immune to the average “eyeballing,” because I get it all day long. Everyone watches the bartender; it’s like watching fish in a tank.
But there was this woman the other day who raised an eyebrow.
Early forties, attractive, came in with a man, drank a couple of Bacardi and Diets and talked to him for about an hour. Didn’t even hit radar.
But then he left.
And she proceeded for the next 45 minutes to basically never take her eyes off me. If I caught her eye, she’d give me the friendly, polite half-smile that a lot of people, particularly women, give each other upon eye-contact.
But she was always looking at me. I could feel her out of the corner of my eye. I thought I was imagining it, to the point that I’d try to catch her looking elsewhere, and she was always looking right at me. Just…watching me. Every single move I made. Everything I said, I knew she heard. She didn’t order another drink; she just sat there watching me work for almost an hour. If I offered her a drink, she’d politely refuse it.
She came in with a man, she gave me no vibes while he was there, if she found me attractive in some way she certainly hid it well til he left, and I can genuinely think of no rational reason for her to behave the way she did. It was genuinely odd; I felt slightly uncomfortable, mainly because I couldn’t think of an explanation for it, and it was ceaseless til the moment she left.
I’ve never asked anyone why they’re looking at me, so I didn’t start that day, but seeing as I am observed every day as part of my job, you have to be pretty freakin’ obsessed with it for me to notice or care or think anything of it.