Last August, I posted my friend’s brilliant solution to a common dilemma: What do you do when the man you’re talking to is distracted by your chest? Here are a few more options.
My favorite comes from Susan Seligson:
In graduate school I worked at a high-toned consulting firm where one of the pedigreed Harvard graduates had a habit of addressing work-related comments directly to my breasts. One day, in a fit of exasperation, I grabbed my right breast and gave it a chirpy falsetto as I moved it up and down in reply.
Here are three more options from the comments to this Jezebel posting about a study finding that “women talked less about themselves and felt more uncomfortable when they felt men were looking at their bodies as opposed to their faces.”
1. It’s true. I find myself restricted to five words.”Stop looking at my boobs.”
2. I can only muster up two: F** off.
3. I’ve been known to snap my fingers in front of the part they’re looking at and bring them up to my face. They follow the sound.
Would any of these options work for you? (Nothing after the jump.)
