Look At Me, Damnit!

Women are incredible. I walked into a coffee shop the other day and there were four tables of individual women. Not a one of them looked at me! To clarify, I'm not saying I'm some Adonis, the mere sight of whom demands immediate female attention whenever I enter a room...but they should at least check to confirm that that's the case, right?

This is baffling to me! Because you can bet that if a woman walked into a cafe full of dudes, each guy, within seconds, would have already stared and calculated what her best physical qualities were, if he'd hook up with her, and under what conditions he'd still hook up with her even though he initially concluded he probably wouldn't. (On a side note, can you imagine if scientists ran an experiment that required all men to walk around with glasses that have laser pointers on them? We'd be so exposed for how ridiculous we really are...) I will concede, though, that women are also just so so so much better than men at looking and not being glaringly obvious gorillas about it. But, I mean, c'mon. There was this one cute girl, sans laptop, sans anything that should be able to occupy her attention, who hadn't even looked up from her coffee yet, and I'd already pictured her naked in three different positions . . . bent over my bed, bent over my desk, and bent over my bathroom sink . . .