When you are sitting in a chair and I am standing and you talk so softly that I have to bend over to hear what you’re saying, I know that you’re just being a jackass so that you can look down my shirt. I’ve talked to you many times before and I know you aren’t a quiet person.
I really, really don’t appreciate that and if you weren’t a big wig and I weren’t a lowly person and if your wife weren’t the sweetest person in the room, I’d make a big, embarrassing scene. But, I’m sure you know that and that’s why you did it to me and not, say, my boss.
If I want you to see my tits, I will take my shirt off in front of you or, more likely, I will bend down seductively over the seven layer bars and twist my torso ever so slightly so that I’m sure you get a good view of that cute freckle on the right one as you look up from the carrots.
But rest assured, that day, for you, dear jackass, will never come.