I am the most oblivious person when it comes to knowing when and if men are checking me out. We are not talking I don’t care or it embarrasses me. We are talking, I do not know, notice, or even think to look. It is pure oblivion on my part.
Friends are the people that tell you these things. They are the folks that go out of their way to point out the things that you are missing or to bring your attention to the details that you seem to miss. Matt is one such friend. When we go to lunch, he likes to note the different men who check me out – the point being to make me more aware of this happening.
He continually attempts to convince me that I am missing a lot of looks. That there are men totally checking me out. They don’t approach, which is another question in itself, but they definitely look.
And so we were at lunch. We sat at Legal Seafood during the lunch hour one week day discussing life in general and our kids and our love interests etc.
“And the guy through the window”
“The young guy over there has looked various times”
As Matt pointed out this and that guy, I sat enjoying the commentary and my meal. Completely oblivious to all these men and their looks. (Which, for me, is quite easy to do apparently?)
Another young guy glanced my way every few minutes until his food arrived… The fish he ordered then had his attention wrapped. The man must have been starving! (Attractive woman vs. fish lunch...)
After a fun and entertaining lunch, we made our way out of the restaurant. Apparently a few more looks came my way… as usual, I didn’t notice.
As we left, the table of three twenty-something guys who had ogled just happened to be finished with their meal and have paid their tab. They left behind us. We walked to grab coffee. They walked to grab coffee.
“Don’t tell me. They are bees drawn to honey…” (The dress I wore definitely hinted at cleavage)
There is a part of me that will never understand men, but then again, I don’t really understand myself. Sometimes I think I live in this little bubble. I wonder if I have conditioned myself to believe that I am invisible unless I want to be seen. I wonder if I truly believe that no one notices me. I wonder how much attention I am missing by not noticing; or whether my life is that much more because I am not noticing.
The lunch was fun. The commentary as to how the men were behaving was hilarious. And yet, I have a hard time believing that it all happened. Sometimes seeing really is believing… and this is one of those times when I don’t see things well.