3/29/2010
The space between

I had a crush on a girl's cleavage.

I don't remember her name. (Okay, so I'm just pretending I don't remember her name. I do.) I saw her back in college. She was my classmate in one class, maybe two. She was this small girl who always wore shirts with big necklines. Okay, so her breasts aren't really big, but you can say they're perfectly perky. They're not too saggy, they're not too shocking, and they're perfectly flaunted.

On the flip side, she wore glasses and her face looked sufficiently cute, but she seemed very, very bitchy. She was a little soft-spoken but she had this absolutely bitchy air. Like, she'll just come up to you and slap you. "Stop staring at my boobs!" could be her line. Maybe if she learned to keep things to the imagination she'd not get that description from me. So, while I was having lunch earlier, and I was looking around trying to stay awake, for the oddest of reasons, I remembered her cleavage.

I won't be surprised if, after those paragraphs, my readership drops to almost zero.

Yes, I accept that I am a guy. A straight guy. A straight guy who's sometimes at the mercy of my raging hormones. I've watched naked ladies in cable television shows. I've watched the most graphic of sex scenes. I flip through magazines, half-anticipating a peeking nipple. You say that's perfectly normal, so I'll say that, yes, I do have those tendencies, too.I'm a guy.

You'd also say that it's definitely gross, so I don't know what to think of myself now. A pervert with a totally freaky smile and eyes that follow only the most, err, critical of things?

"I stared at her ass again," I'd tell a friend. "Oh no."

"It's perfectly normal," she'd say. Yes, she's a she. "You're a guy."

Okay, it's perfectly normal, but it's definitely gross, too. Why can't we just agree on one thing rather than two?

Guys first look at a woman's physical attributes. Me, I'm not that perverted. I'll always say that the first three things I check in a girl are her eyes, her hair and her cheeks. (Thanks to my mother for determining one-third of the criteria.) But that's still physical. Sooner or later, you'll start checking the lady out and your eyes will trail elsewhere. "She's got a nice ass. It's bigger than I expected."

"I stared at her ass again. Oh no."

"It's perfectly normal. You're a guy."

To our credits, us guys aren't just about the physical. Fine, we tend to buy those men's magazines for the photos alone ("are NiƱa Jose's nipples peeking out?" and then squinting really close) but sooner or later we'll start looking at the personality. Sounds like a catch-all excuse, but why do we have love songs? "Pinaiyak mo na naman ako." It's a sensitive side nobody wants to give us credits for.

Unfortunately when things do go well it all ends up with sex, and we're back to the physical bits. "Pare, she's a nice, tight little package. And boy, can she rock it!"

So why do we have to be the gross ones? At the risk of overgeneralizing, you ladies also like the physical stuff. "He's very very sexy, but 'day, he doesn't have the goods to back it up. Bitin ako!"

"I think he's so chivalrous," you might well me. "And handsome too."

So if we're all the same, I guess I should not feel any guilty when I talk about that cleavage I mentioned earlier. So what if I remembered it all of a sudden? I'll admit. I stared at it a good few times, amazed at how seemingly perfect it is. I don't care if she can come up to me and slap me. It's seemingly perfect. I'm a guy. That's what I do. Like you don't do the same things, too.

Only, of course, you can all call us gross and we can only say you're having some girl's talk in your packed toilets. I may not have an explanation as to why we do such things, but you don't either. So, will you please return to my blog and give my almost zero readership a lift?

I think that girl's on my yearbook. Not sure though.

And your responses...

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