Since we're on the topic of girls...

Since we're on the topic of girls, let's open Pandora's box yet again and see what comes out. My personal experiences being somewhat stilted by a 4 year stint at a company that lionized my personal time to the extent that I hardly got to go out at nights, I still can't help but observe that they (namely that other species called the opposite sex) are the most distracting things on the face of this earth. Yet they still manage to be a PITA when it comes to getting their attention on yours truly. I should probably narrow this diatribe to the subgroup of that other species that I see wearing what used to be considered underwear a mere five years ago. I admit that my eyes have gotten quite the exercise this summer after joining the masses of unemployed this year. Heck, I discovered that women do go commando far more often than I suspected. (Thank you, thank you, and thank you again to the young woman who nonchalantly sat cross-legged in a skirt at a table directly in my line of sight when I am trying to eat food! I could barely concentrate on keeping my mouth closed as I chewed. It made my day.)

Before I learned about the simple yet complex joys of making 5 dollars last for three meals, I was cooped up in a windowless office with colleagues whose fashion sense focused soley on less than revealing clothing thanks to a puritanical dress code at this company I once worked for. (Does this count as a run on sentence?)

Back to the point. Why do females get uncomfortable when us poor beknighted guys stare at them? I would observe that wearing a top that only covers the front side of your body is not because you want to be cooler. Or wearing pants that have words sewn to the posterior because you don't want us to try and read those words. ADMIT IT!! You want us to notice you! Why else would you be wearing that miniskirt that is one inch lower than your crotch?

Perhaps I begin to understand, it is because you want us to notice you like a pack of slobbering dogs, panting to see what else you might reveal as you stalk away in a huff because we did stare (admittedly with our tongues hanging out, panting away, all the while standing in a puddle of our own saliva) but, you don't want us to do more than stare. And it usually is the males of a species that are the peacocks. Hah!

So, is it really true? Are women who wear such revealing outfits just really attempting to give men nothing more than a bad case of blue balls? Is it nothing more than a passing moment of sadistic pleasure because of the fact that you can still "wow them" with the hints of more flesh hidden by thin strings of cloth? Or is it the need to show more flesh merely due to the fact that current fasion trends leave a girl no choice but to wear skin tight spaghetti strap tank tops and fluffy, pleated mini skirts?

I don't know. Perhaps someone from that other species could enlighten me. As I wait for someone do so, I will gladly pass the time staring at yet another skirt that is too short to be decent. Eyes, don't fail me now.