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Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Side Effects

So I was running home the other day to catch the oven repair guy. Two days earlier, after I disabused him of his belief that he had been summoned to fix the dishwasher, he diagnosed the stove as having a "weak igniter" and was returning to replace it. Everything falls apart in the summer. Last year, the refrigerator went belly-up in an exceptionally rude fashion.

Coming around the corner, I spied one of the Dog People I know slightly. In my neighborhood, there are Dog People who are friends and others with whom I have only a nodding acquaintance. This fellow is one of the latter, in part because he has two of the worst behaved golden retrievers on earth. (They are so nasty that people tend to walk their dogs across the street to avoid them, which is sad for one woman whose two extremely friendly goldens are frequently mistaken for the miscreants. She is often in the position of having to call out: "It's all right! These are the NICE ONES!")

Anyway, I was about to wave when the man said something: "Nice rack." Now, the relative niceness of my figure is not for me to discuss, but my bra size is significantly larger than it was before Felix, and I am uncomfortable enough about the state of my person that it might be worthy of some time on the couch. I know that Mary Louise Parker thanked her son for helping her look so fabulous in her Emmy-awards dress, but I am not a movie star, and I wasn't on a red carpet.

When one lives in a city, one tends to hear and become immune to a certain amount of street attention, but what made this comment hit like a spitball was the fact that I know this guy. I know the state of his wife's health (indifferent) and his dog's names, and he sort of knows me. I have to say I really don't care for my acquaintances treating me with the familiarity they would only accord a total stranger.

Should I have stopped and reminded the Retriever Guy that he knows me? There was already enough of my embarrassment hanging in the ether for both of us. Lots of friends have commented that they felt completely unsexy and invisible after having their children. I don't feel this way, which is not to say that I feel comfortable with this high jiggle quotient. My altered state makes me feel strangely young, the way I did when I got my breasts in their original size. I wouldn't have been inclined to challenge Retriever Guy then either.

posted by Elise at 7:27 AM

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67 Comments:

Rev. Frankie said...

I have frequently wished to do violent murder on the street creeps but it's never been someone I know. If he says something along the lines of "nice rack" again, you might retort, "My infant son thinks they're a great source of FOOD, jerk-face!" Just one possibility. Man, I'm riled on your behalf!

6/21/2005 7:41 PM

Anonymous said...

Just look at the front of his pants and exclaim, "Small dick!"

6/22/2005 10:40 PM

Elise said...

Many thanks, Rev. Frankie. This is one of those occasions where the mind reels with retorts after the fact, but at the moment, one is just... taken aback.

There is actually a phrase in French that means - "I thought of something smart to say way too late" and I must ask around to find out what it is, since it is the story of my life these days.

Cheers,
Elise

7/06/2005 10:39 AM

Anonymous said...