Ah, Bisexuality...

...and boobies. Why does it always have to come down to boobies? Probably because they're the one asset I don't have. Well, I have them, and they're quite shapely, but, here's the point: on a very small scale. And I'm old enough now to have been forced to abandon the hope I held all through the trials of puberty. I am forced to admit that no, I am not going to wake up one day and be a C. I am, always have been and always will be an A. End of story.

To be honest, my breasts are like balloons that never quite got blown all the way up. You know when you're blowing up a balloon, there's the very easy initial puff where you just fill the flaccid rubber? Immediately after that, if you actually want to blow up the balloon, you have to put a good amount of force behind your air to start stretching the rubber. And then, all of a sudden it's easy inflating again and you just have to be careful not to over-inflate. Yeah, my breasts never got over that initial hump. They got close- they're right on the threshold, I know it, but that's where they gave up. On the bright side, this means that they're firm, they'll probably never sag (or if they do, they don't have far to go) and they're generally not in my way. Oh, yes, I appreciate the function of small breasts in this man's world. But cleavage? Does not cleavage have its own function as well? Yes, it certainly does. Much like a pair of big brown eyes, it has the purely magical power to make men (and some unlucky women) stupid. And I'm sure big beautiful eyes as well as big beautiful breasts have their own inescapable drawbacks, but who doesn't want to have their finger on the Stupid Switch? That's power, man. Pure unadulterated superpower. (Because sexuality, if deftly wielded, is as devastational as an atom bomb.)

It is entirely the fault of hot bisexual chick at work that small breasts, cleavage and the term "boobies" are on my mind today. Today was a slow day, so I was sent for the entirety of the night to a corner of the warehouse that I usually only pass through. It should be mentioned that this corner is entirely populated by horney Asians with a penchant for feeling each other up. (I may have a shitty job, but the perks are just heavenly.) So we were all in this corner, working, goofing off and generally having a good time getting the job done, when somehow breasts came up in conversation. (I say somehow because I don't speak Lao fluently enough to translate but I can can generally get the gist.) The boobies comment was directed at hot chick, and she responded by grabbing the biggest, fullest set near her and giving them the old squeezey-squeezey all the while proclaiming her undying love of "boobies" loudly enough for anyone within twenty yards to hear. The owner of the assaulted breasts eventually extracted herself from hot chick's persistent fingers and asked hot chick why she didn't do that to Marleenken? "Ha!" said hot chick, "Marley doesn't have any boobies! I like big boobies!"

Ouch.

Now, after all that, you may find this hard to believe, but my small breasts have never really been a problem for me. Until now that is. I've never known a guy to say to me, "Honey, you're hot and all, but your boobs... well, they're a little lacking. Sorry sweetheart." Guys just don't work like that. Women however, are another story entirely. We're picky, exacting, and perfectly willing to wait until hell freezes over to get what we want. In short, we don't forgive small flaws and we don't settle. We're raised to believe that we are the chosen possessors of a rare commodity (i.e. pussy) and demand is never going to flag. Right or wrong, that's what we're told.

Fear not, I'm not about to wallow in the pit of despair until I get massive breast implants. I would never deface The Boys like that. They may be small, but they are mine. No, this stark difference between the conditioning of men and women just puts me in an interesting and very uncomfortable mental situation. I've grown very accustomed to being able to walk into a room, pick out my target and should I desire, possess it. Now I'm competing against myself. Or rather, I'm competing on a level playing field. Which is a bunch of crap if you ask me. I far prefer having the odds in my favor. Really, gentlemen, wouldn't you?