The metro swayed back and forth carrying us out of the city toward home and my much anticipated bed. The lateness of the hour played at my brain, dulling my usual interest in people watching without appearing to watch. As we sped through the tunnels, I became increasingly aware of the man standing to my rear left. I am not sure if I became aware of him as much as I noted that he was aware of me.
That, in itself, my friends is worth noting!
I usually don’t notice, at all, if and when men check me out. I am blissfully oblivious for so many reasons. Additionally, I just am not sure that I care. Men are visual creatures - they look whether they really like what they see or not. They all look.
As I said, I usually don’t notice, so the fact that I did surprised me. I noted my own awareness of the drape of my dress and the highlighted aspects of my body. I found myself a tad irritated at the attention. Again, a bit out of the norm for me as I often don’t notice and don’t care.
That night, I cared. I wish that I understood why.
I noted the men around me in DC. I flirted with a few of them as I naturally do. Rarely do I choose clothes to hide my body just as I don’t often wear clothes that are over the top in highlighting what I have – this night was no exception. In other words, the entire day was very normal until the metro that evening.
Perhaps my relaxed state allowed my sixth sense to come into play? You know, that sense that alerts one to the scoping of men in the area. Perhaps it was that I truly wanted to be in my own little world like the majority of people on the metro and this attention invaded my privacy? My body betray me… my body just couldn’t keep itself to itself!!
I wonder if anyone else has ever felt that way – when the glances of a man toward the body prove to be an irritation or a potential invasion? The guy honestly didn’t do anything but look.. .and look… but it wasn’t an icky feeling, more just an irritation.
Do men ever find the glances of women to be irritating or invasive depending on the time and place?
The mood passed, as I was sure that it would. Flirting is a natural part of my personality so… flirting resumed after a good night sleep. I returned to not caring about men noticing or not noticing my body. I returned to wearing comfortable, me, clothes without a second thought. I rode the metro again without incident.
It was an odd experience more about the timing and my state of mind over anything else. One of those blurs in time that leave me scratching my head and wondering… what was that all about? And then moving on because, well, life is too short to spend too much time on such thoughts and… there is more flirting to do, no?