The Peril's Manly-Man Moment Of The Weekend
It's a funny thing about women...most of them (a) want to be attractive but (b) don't like being, shall we say, ogled. Eyes above the neck, young man, eyes above the neck. But we guys, on the other hand...we're like punching each other: "Dude, did you see her staring at me? Who's da man?! Oh yeah!"
Okay, slight exaggeration there, but still you get the point: it's hard to hurt a guy's feelings by staring at him in obvious pleasure. I mean, we guys do NOT, generally speaking, feel violated by appreciative stares.
So I'm walking through Texadelphia and passing this table where a very attractive woman is sitting, and although I'm not looking directly at her, my basketball-honed peripheral vision is still fully functional. So although she doesn't think I'm looking at her, I see her glance down at my crotch, and then her eyes widen a bit, and then she gets a big smile on her face. And for maybe five seconds I'm plenty proud of myself: "So, Sugarbritches, ya like whatcha see there, do ya?"
Then I glance down and see that my fly is open...