As I rode the train from Philly to DC I noticed an attractive young woman sitting across from me.  She wore a low-cut blouse that shouted “look at mine’.  But being a gentleman I resisted the temptation to stare.  I know she wanted me to, but if I did it would be a moral victory for her.

So I exercised great self discipline.  I forced my eyes to focus on her navel, thereby avoiding both eye contact and mammary contact.  As I focused on that neutral area I felt my right eye starting to quiver.  I grimaced and then it happened, a muscle gave way and my right eye shifted to the forbidden target, staring wantonly into the depths of that glorious cleavage.  The woman smiled, for she knew she had won.  She had displayed her two marvelous assets and I had openly endorsed their quality.

To its credit my left eye had maintained its neutral focus; however, the right eye remains permanently focused, about chest high.  So if you encounter a cross-eyed man staring simultaneously at your navel and chest, then that is me. 

My therapy requires that I avoid watching all sports that involve large spherical objects, such as basketball and bowling.  Golf and tennis are OK.

I considered suing her for maintaining an attractive nuisance.  My attorney asked if I could recognize her face, but I must confess that I am not sure that she had a face.  I told him that I could recognize those glands in a lineup (they are like fingerprints in that no two pair are alike).  In fact, I begged him to show me a lineup.