“Breasts are sort of a non-negotiable item for me…” From Medium (2/14)

(I am afraid this is turning into a blog about love and sex in the 3rd millennium. How dreadful! Nevertheless, I proceed with this week’s offering.)

There’s a look that passes between attracted people. The eyes brush across the face, followed by a quick drop before the gaze returns to the eyes. If two pairs of eyes lock, for even a brief moment, an unspoken request invites further exploration. The next step is more gender specific. A woman tends to flip her gaze away for a moment before turning back with a flirtatious, welcoming smile. The guy puffs out his chest a bit to take up more space while never breaking eye contact. If the gaze continues, conversation will occur.

I call this interaction ‘The Flirtation Invasion.’ It’s a bad rhyme, but I use it anyway. In fact, I use it everywhere. I have become an expert at catching guys in the first step of the flirtation invasion, thus enabling me to use and abuse them as I wish. I caught the look from the car wash owner and have since paid less than 50% for every service on my car. I change no tires, perform no car repairs, and get rides to and from the bus station when it rains. My life is good; I owe it all to the easy readability of the opposite sex.

This may sound shocking, but I learned this move on my mission. I served in the Dominican Republic, a place where sexuality IS the official language. With my bright red hair, fair skin, curvy body with extra-large breasts, bright smile, and compassionate personality, I attracted attention. Daily, I received invitations to procreate, and on 2 separate occasions had kisses forced on me. One day, I led the music at a baptism – a baptism! – where I received no fewer than 3 suggestive winks from the congregation. In my Mormon American upbringing, no one had taught me the cross-cultural ritual dance of human mating. Thank God, I am a quick learner with natural aptitude for sensuality. After 6 months on the island, I had a batch of tricks that would make my momma blush! (No worries, mom, I live the law of chastity…)

Around the 6th month, a hurricane came to our little village. Mission life converted into survival when the village ran out of water. Families were forced to walk downhill about a mile to the river and then ascend with buckets of water. My companion, a rough-it kind of girl with a kind heart, saw no problem with our performing the trek daily. Well, I disagreed. As we walked about town, I looked for men with cars. As the men stopped to suggest something indecorous, I dropped my eyes, blushed appropriately, and then looked them square in the eye, as I claimed to be parched for the lack of water. In the evening, the car would invariably arrive, filled with buckets of water. We had more water than we needed and soon were sharing with other families on the block.

My companion really never forgave me for this behavior, which is the start of a very sad story - I have to admit it wasn’t exactly proper for a missionary in the Lord’s service - but I continued to use the trick throughout my mission and my normal life.

In honor of my clueless American sisters, I am willing to share the secret with my readers (all 2 of you). Some men are, quite simply, all about the sex. As long as you have it and they want it, you can win every time. So love it, sell it, and use it carefully ('cause if you're dishin', they're gonna stop wantin'). As long as men are willing to reduce women to little more than bust and bustle, we have the upper hand. To paraphrase the words of my beloved Jane Austen, Stupid men are the only sort with knowing - at least, as far as maintaining a budget is concerned.

So, I repeat, breasts are a non-negotiable item of infinite value. If you don't believe me, just check out this site. Breasts are better than money in the bank!

http://www.movies.go.com/i/movies/539587/onesheet/index.html