Bowing To The Power Of The State, and Boobs

Some days you must bow to the power of the state to keep a trouble free life. Drivers License renewal was this morning’s task. As these things go, not too terrible. One and three quarters hours were spent on hard plastic chairs while watching my fellow citizens.  Actual time spent with the staff, about ten minutes. At my age, cannot renew on line. Guess the powers that are want to see if I’m alive.

What is it with women showing off their boobs at work? The woman taking my picture was showing more skin than a Hooters waitress.  The woman giving the eye test and typing the forms was showing a lot of chest. I see this often, like, for instance, bank tellers and business offices. I don’t see it in convenience or grocery stores very often.

Being a fully functional heterosexual male, I notice. Irritates me, because I’m there for business,  and I find it distracting and rude. If I want to see boobs, I’ll go to a jiggle joint.  These are the same women that are the first to complain about “respect”. Listen, dummy, the more skin you show, the less respect you get.

When my sons were young, the wife and I were shopping for new beds. At one place, the saleswoman wasn’t wearing a bra and her dress would fall open. It didn’t happen until the wife’s was looking elsewhere. We left, and the wife wondered why. She was surprised when I told her the reason.

At another store, the saleswoman knew her product. She was able to show construction details relating to the stoutness of the beds verses active boys. Her clothing was appropriate, and she made a nice sale.

I’m not immune to the little head thinking for the big head; just look at some of my relationships. Rarely though does the, “I’ve got large breasts, can you help me” ploy work with me.

Going back to my fellow citizens in the DMV holding pen, a couple sitting in front of me were disgusting. A young woman, teens, was wearing white shorts and no underwear. You could tell because the material was translucent. She was with an older man (father/grandfather?).  What the hell were they thinking?

Guess I’ve turned into a grumpy old man.