The male gaze can jump in a lake
While driving to work this morning, someone pulled up along side me at a stoplight and motioned for me to roll down my window. He was gesturing to the back of my car and saying something, and I worried that I had a light out, my trunk was open, or (worst of all) I hadn’t noticed a flat tire.
I rolled down my window and he started talking across the gap between our cars. I couldn’t really hear him over the rain, complicated by his soft voice and foreign accent. I finally understood that he was complimenting me on my bumper stickers. This happens every so often, and I always get a kick out of it. I have a couple dozen bumper stickers on the back of my car, ranging from the political – about Obama or women’s rights – to the silly (“No, I will not fix your computer”). I thanked him, and started to roll my window back up, when he yelled something I heard very clearly:
“Wanna meet up some place?
I rolled up my window, turned back to the light (green, by this time), and sped away.