Jeepers Peepers.

Something reminded me of this story recently and I figured it might make an interesting read. Feel free to render your own moral from this story if you see one.

Our new manager had only been with us for a couple of weeks. I didn't know the man very well but enough to know he already had me pegged as a sluggard and a troublemaker. Smart man. Anyway, it was after a long Thursday at work as I headed up the hill towards central station. My brain was now securely in an S2 low power state as I prepared for the hour long trip home. While in this state my wandering eyes innocently fell upon a healthy pair of medium sized breasts coming down the hill towards me. They were fully covered and not dressed to attract attention to themselves but my eyes chose to rest there for a while anyway.

After a second or so I realized that I might have spent a little too much time looking and was probably now well into staring territory. Without another thought I quickly averted my gaze, turning my head, looking up and away into the distance and trying to seem distracted by something else. The moment I did that I realized that anyone who had been observing my stare would now be quite sure that I am a breast ogling pervert. True as that may be I was really hoping that the owner of the breasts had not seen the stare or the gaze tearing maneuver.

Just a moment after what I thought had been a successful escape from embarrassment I heard someone call my name from the direction I had been looking in moments earlier... Instant panic. The silent internal kind. I turned with a half ready smile to greet the owner of the unfamiliar voice. I shot a quick glance back to the empty space I had just been staring at to help strengthen my admittedly weak alibi. "Oh hello." There might have been more words but they were obscured by my sudden jump through all seven levels of panic and the sound of my intestines collapsing into a singularity of terror. My new manager seemed to be in a good mood and continued down the street hand in hand with the owner of the breasts.

Ever since that day I have always left a few extra lights on upstairs when I am in public. I keep much tighter control of my gaze and carefully monitor for inappropriate stare times. To this day I don't know if anyone at all read my behaviour that night. I did end up building a good working relationship with this manager. At a work dinner some weeks later I was formally introduced to mrs. manager. I think I was polite and cheerful but she probably saw too much of the underside of my chin on account of my effort to make it clear that I am not a common tit starer.