Bedroom Misadventures: Episode 10

It’s been unseasonably hot, even for here.  We’ve been in the 80’s for several days, with high humidity, rain, and storms.  During a break in the rain, Husband suggested we attend a local outdoor sporting event, about 45 minutes away from home.

Since we were looking at another day of high temperatures, I wore a comfy shelf tank (the kind with a built-in bra) for the occasion.  We walked around, watching the players practice and just generally people watching.  That’s when I noticed something a little odd: people were staring.  Not at us.  At me.  At first I chalked it up to my imagination.  Why would people be staring?

It started with an elderly male employee greeting and directing people, whose eyes lingered on my chest area a little too long as I passed.  Then the middle aged woman giving out team rosters seemed a little uncomfortable with me.  And as we walked around, there were several women that let their eyes flash at mine, give me a strange half smile (which I totally misinterpreted as the I-think-I-know-you-but-I’m-not-sure smile), before turning away.  Most women I met did this, or turned away from me entirely.

Huh.  Odd.

Players making their way between fields glanced at my chest and held their eyes there as they passed by.  Several men looked past or above me until I was almost even with them, when I saw their eyes drop and stay.

What is going on here?

I excused myself to the rest room, but as I walked alone, the stares got worse.  Not quite as covert.  I pulled up the top of my shirt so it covered more of my chest.

“I know this shirt is a little low cut,” I thought, “But geez, it’s not that low!”

As I made my way to the bathroom on the other side of the fields, it just got worse and worse.  There were giggles, whispers, and I clearly heard a group of middle aged men refer to me as “that girl” as I passed them.

When I was finally alone in the women’s rest room, I looked in the mirror.

I understood the stares.  The whispers.  The weird reactions.

The bars of my nipple piercings were front and center.  The built in bra of my shirt did very little to hide them.  You see, I had recently changed out the steel balls at the end of my piercings and replaced them with larger, jeweled ends, since they drive Husband nuts in a good way.  With the old ball ends, you could not see the piercings in that shirt.  With these ball ends, they were hard to ignore.  My piercings were staring back at me out of the mirror.

Forty-five minutes away from home.  In a crowd of people.  No hope of hiding them.

[Brief interlude: When I told this story to a friend, she asked me at this point why I did not just take the piercings out until I got home.  Simply put, you can’t do that to nipple piercings, especially not ones only a few months old.  The piercings will close up immediately.]

I went to rejoin Husband.  More stares, more whispers.  I kept my eyes level, head held high.  I thought if I tried to hide them, it would just make them more obvious.  I don’t think it helped.

When I finally reached Husband, I whispered the problem in his ear, sprinkled with lots of swearing.  I did not tell him about the staring and laughing, just about what I saw in the mirror.  He looked at me and started laughing.  He himself had noticed nothing amiss with my clothes.

I came home with mixed feelings.  It was a little funny not realizing my piercings were so obvious.  It’s a little embarrassing, too.  Just the right kind of embarrassing that makes it a great story to tell later over a glass of wine and a lot of laughing.  Mostly, that’s what I’m doing.

But I also had an epiphany:  They’re just boobs.  Seriously, they…are…just…boobs.  Yep, my nipples are pierced.  Other people noticed.  Congrats.  Would ya like a ribbon for noticing that I have a chest?

Now, I really get it.  My piercings were pretty obvious today.  People couldn’t help but notice them.  But was the whispering really necessary?  The blatant staring, especially when I was no longer standing next to my husband?  The label of “that girl”* when I am in fact IN MY 30’s???

In short, noticing something sex related about a person is not an excuse to abandon social skills.  They are just boobs.  And my eyes are up here.

*Calling females in my age group “girls” while calling males of the same age “men” is one of my pet peeves.


Bedroom Misadventures: Episode 10 — 5 Comments

  1. Dear K,

    Would just like to tell you how much we love you; my wife and I just love reading your blog. Your reviews are great. I am also picky about what we use on each other we will definitely look up the seagrape chocolate dust. It is amazing how people just love to judge and gossip . One would think in this day and age that it would have been overlooked . How many of the husbands went home that night and asked there wives if they would get there’s done.

    • Aww, you’re so sweet! I’m glad to see you both are still reading. I remember you two being readers from way back when.

      Yes, the maturity level of the giggles was astounding. In the end I decided to just ignore them and own it. What’s funny is if that’s the way they reacted, then they don’t have the maturity to open the dialogue with their spouses.

      And Seagrape’s items are amazing. I have two more reviews for them coming up.

  2. These are YOUR boobs, and that is YOUR body. You do whatever the hell YOU want with YOUR body. People don’t seem to know this. People need to start realizing that we are doing things to pleasure ourselves, and not their eyes.
    As I already told you on Twitter, I’m pretty sure all of them were extremely jealous of you, and most of all, the amazing boobs you have. Let them be green with envy.

    • HER boobs, HER body… that’s correct. Just like how admirers’ (and judgmental prudes’) eyes are also a part of THEIR bodies. She’s free to insert jewels and rods into her breasts as she pleases, just as they’re free to look wherever they please.

      What about basic courtesy, you ask?

      Basic courtesy also includes not being a public tease or provocateur (granted, the exhibition in this case wasn’t intentional).

      “Boobs are just boobs,” but chocolate is just chocolate. We each place value on different commonplace things. Many women on a diet wouldn’t take too kindly to a person waving chocolate under their noses and expecting them not to notice. You know, because of the whole basic courtesy thing.

      I understand that our eloquent and lovable blog poster didn’t get her piercings for the enjoyment of some strange guy on the internet. However, if she has her beautifully pierced mammary organs on public display, it’s unfair to expect me not to show interest. Sure, like most guys, I’d try my best to be respectful, but it still doesn’t seem fair to be the only party making an effort in the etiquette department.

      “I’m gonna show it in public, but you can’t look in public,” seems like a textbook double standard.

      • I don’t get the impression that she was worried about the occasional look. It’s the laughter, the snide remarks, people behaving as though she is not a human being who can hear them. People are entitled to look, and entitled to their opinion about what they see, but there’s no call for flagrant disrespect.

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