Anyone who looks as good as I do is used to being gawked at.
Men stare, then usually turn away when I catch sight of them. The guys with the guts to keep looking are the ones I'm usually interested in. It may sound conceited, but I know I'm attractive... after all, I go out of my way to present myself in the best way possible. Don't we all?
That's what really frustrates me about window peepers. They're the men who lurk around and try to find peep holes and open spots in my blinds. They're always there. Even when I can't see them, I know it.
I'm not mad that they want to look. Everyone wants to see something they shouldn't now and again.
I get angry because they see me on their terms - not mine!
They're mostly old men... lechers. They can't get it off with even the most easy girls, and you know the stingy bastards aren't going to pay for it.
When I don't have my make-up on and I've just rolled out of bed, the last thing I want to deal with is a pair of glassy eyeballs peeking at me! I know they're judging me, too, as if that were their right. No woman looks the same from bedroom to boardwalk.
I finally had enough one night when I'd just slipped into a hot bath. I'd cut my hair short again, bangs almost as long as the rest, and I let the hot water and bubbles take away all the stress of another day in the pervert's spotlight.
Then, I saw the latest leering face.
I'd left the bathroom door open, and I could see straight through the bedroom to the off-center window shade. The edge had caught on an end table, leaving open a long, triangular shard of blackness.
The man looked in at me, eyes fixed and pupils wide. His face seemed quite dower, his mouth down-turned into an over-accentuated frown. The man had the sort of thick lips and jowls that brought to mind some ancient, forgotten type of fish.
The black, bushy eyebrows and deep pea green skin didn't make him seem any more normal.
So yes, I'd had quite enough of this. Even as the man didn't move... refused to blink those yellowish eyes with wide, vertical slit pupils... all I could think about was how men are all the same! Take away the facade, whether he's a handsome waiter, a gnomish businessman, or this abomination at my window… and a man only cares about seeing a woman naked and vulnerable!
They want to know everything until there's no mystery left, and the girl is just some magician whose tricks they can spot with ease.
That's why I did something I never do. Something I've never even had the slightest wish to do in all my years!
He wanted to see me? At my worst? Fine.
I showed my true face.
Head tilted, jet black hair dipping slightly into the foam, I let him see the slick, black recesses around the twin pinpricks of white light and the over-sized grin. Dark lips glistening and all!
That did it, believe me.
Those thick eyebrows of his rose slightly. His mouth drew into an "O".
He faded back into the night and was gone.
Topic: Eyeful (Read 11454 times)
