Duck When She Turns Around

Submitted by Steve:

I bumped into an old elementary school friend of mine, Patricia, at a local party.  It was fun catching up, especially when the second or third line out of her was:

"Look at my boobs!"

It was true, her breasts had grown markedly from their elementary-school level.  In fact, they were now akin to decently-sized cantaloupes.  What good fortune for her!

So I asked her out.  Not as a direct result of the breast thing, although to be honest, it didn't hurt.
During our dinner, though, I couldn't help but notice that whenever we talked about anything, she was somehow able to pull it back into a a discussion about her chest.

I'd say, "Since high school, I've worked in public service."

She'd say, "Really?  I did social justice work in Zaire.  I had the biggest boobs in the country!"

Or I'd say, "I'm thinking about moving to Springfield."

And she'd say, "It's hilly there, but not as hilly as my chest!"

Or I'd say, "How about that weather?"

And she'd say, "It's always a shady day under my tits!"

Yes, I know that as a guy I'm supposed to be all up ons.  Still, I was hoping for more of a conversation.  Sorry, but deep women are far more sexy to me.

Eventually (read: not too long after it began), I grew tired of her consistent mammary allusions, and I called her out on it.

"Patricia, why do you keep talking about your chest?"

She gave me a funny look.  "Because you used to tease me about my chest in grade school."

"I did?"

"Yes, you did."

"Are you sure?"

"I think so."

"Oh.  I guess I've completely forgotten."

I'm not particularly attracted to the vengeful, so that was our only date.  For the record, I'm reasonably confident that she was talking about someone else.  I wouldn't so much as look at a girl's breasts in grade school, much less make fun of them.