Cleavage Etiquette

I'm not sharing any great insight with you all that dressing provocatively is much more mainstream than ever before. Shorter skirts, bare legs, shoes that show off finer points of the fine female foot, and yes cleavage. Cleavage is everywhere. TV, ads, in the library, in high schools, in the grocery store, and it seems to go across all age lines; all the sudden 60 doesn't seem too old for an undone button or two or three -- shit, I saw my mom yesterday, and she was tossing out the cleav for the world to see. My wife is a pretty conservative broad overall, but lately she's been showing off that fantastic upper chest fold, and I just love to just stick my nose in there and take in a big breath...uhm, strike that last line from the record.

Now, don't get me wrong...other than noticing my mom's cleavage, I love it. It's wonderful! It's a sexy sight for men, but also I'd guess it probably makes a woman feel sexier, more confident, as well as younger and more alive.

But what's the etiquette for men, I mean when checking out chicks that you're not banging. Am I not supposed to notice at all? I mean, you chicks are showing off the grandest of all canyons, one of the most sensual areas of the female form and I'm not supposed to look? Not even peek? Really? I don't consider myself a perv at all; I'm just a regular, normal guy. I'm not trying to look, but my eyes have their own muscles; they are naturally drawn to what they want to see, proper forum or not.

Yesterday, I was at a wedding reception. Picture this: I'm sitting next to my mom and dad and across from friends of the grooms family -- a husband and wife. Now, we're having good conversation...he's a fellow boater; we're talking boats, rivers, fishing...having a grand time but I keep noticing this fifty something year-old cleavage of the wife. The overhead light is casting a perfect shadow between these two beautiful baby feeders, all encased by the contrast of the tight, low-cut, black dress. (I don't even want to try to describe the push-up design of the wedding dress, I'll really sound pervy then)

So, I'm conversing, talking about flounders and sandbars and outboard motors and every time the wife chimes in, I catch myself sneaking a peak and quickly raising my eyes. The voice in my head is screaming, "don't look down, there's nothing there, it's probably hairy and nasty, baseball and dead baby seals". Anything I can think of, just don't look at those fantastic looking fun-bags.

So where's the line of good and evil here? Don't look below the neck? No, that doesn't make sense. That would be such a terrible waste not seeing all those beautifully painted toe nails, cleanly shaven legs, tight clingy dresses and that wonderful, mysterious shadow that creeps down the center of the chest. OK. How about peek, but don't stare? Again, this doesn't seem to work because it's easy to get lost in the majesty that is the female form...When drinking in eyefuls cleav it's hard to measure time. Using all of my problem solving techniques, the only thing I can come up with comes from the wisdom of Cory Heart, Sunglasses at Night and all.

So, women, let's keep this trend going. Keep the hem-lines high, and the top-lines low cutting and V shaped. (All except for you, mommy) But if you see me putting on a pair of ray-bans, don't take offense -- take it as a compliment. Understand that my future's so bright I gotta wear shades and also remember I was looking at your eyes the whole time. I swear!