4 June 1993 Writing

Aren’t you hot?

Excuse me?

Aren’t you hot? You look like you’re roasting. You keep pulling at your bra like it’s smothering your breasts.

It IS a hundred degrees outside.

So take off your shirt if you’re so hot.

Yeah right. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?

What does it matter if I’d like it? The point is you’d like it.

I’m not going to take off my shirt just so you can get your jollies ogling my breasts.

Do you think that’s why I took off my shirt so you could get your jollies?

That’s different; you’re used to having women stare at your bare chest.

Ah ha! So you admit staring at my chest.

I didn’t say that! I simply meant that men are used to being barechested.

The only reason men (in general) are more used to being barechested than women (in general) is that we do it more often. But we don’t do it because we’re used to it, anyway; we do it because we’re hot. And you’re hot, aren’t you?

I can’t anyway, it’s against the law.

What law?

What?

What law?

I don’t know; THE law.

Exposing your chest isn’t any more against the law than exposing my chest; unless of course it disturbs the peace, which I doubt it will.

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