I know you know it's up in there
OK. I was walking back to work after a decidedly unpleasing lunch at Chick-Fil-A*, and after seeing the people I saw on the street, I just had to blog it out.
I've always wondered, and though it's probably too late, since I probably don't have any readers anymore, and no new ones are likely to wander by anytime soon, but I have to ask: Women, when you sport a massive camel toe,** what the hell are you thinking? Is it particularly comfortable, or Oooh, Ick, pleasurable? Do you think it actually looks good? And if so, in what way? Let's leave out what men think of this for the time being (I think it's weird-looking), I just want to know what makes a woman think that looks good, or even right. How can you look in a mirror, see your pants all up in your _____***, and decide that's just the natural way of things?
I guess it could be seen as roughly equivalent to showing a lot of cleavage. Breast-type cleavage, that is, in which case what men like or want could have something to do with it. Could be advertising, and I have to say that the most avid displayers of nether-cleavage I know is definitely challenged to display even the faintest hint of having breast-type cleavage equipment. If you're advertising, or even showing off, and you're shaved down there, I suppose it's almost like you're not wearing pants at all, at least from the "preserving the mystery" angle.
Anyway, I just had to ask, though I'm sure I'll never get an answer, and I don't have the nerve to actually ask in person. And yes, I know that men sport the toe sometimes too--that's a mystery to me too, though I suspect that's mostly an advertising thing, or a "can't be fucked to dress properly" thing--so if any guys want to weigh in on the man-camel-toe, feel free.
* The experience pretty much sucked on every level. First, it's goddamn Chick-Fil-A. What was I doing in a place that's almost called Chicken-Fuckin-A in the first place? It's close, and it's not the place next door that has lost my confidence after providing a free cucaracha with my cow-orker's taquito platter, that's why. Anyway, I started out with the 16-year-old trainee--he was polite, but a little scattered, and everything took an eternity. Then there's the tray, or rather the lack of one--they don't do trays. You can spread out the sack they give you and eat on that, or you can just eat right off the table. Ick. The food? Eh. I've had worse chicken sandwiches, though this one does take the prize for being on the soggiest bun ever, but the idea of serving a fried chicken sandwich with nothing on it but two (always two) pickles seems suspicious to me. Mostly I hate the place because they are closed on Sundays--all Chick-fil-a's, not just the local--and that can only mean management is a bunch of religious freaks. That's ALL it could POSSIBLY mean. Shut up. That's all. Plus the only newspaper they have in the store is the frigging Washington Times, an impossibly right-wing rag, though you'd think it would be unpopular with actual Christians, seeing as it's also Moonie-owned.
** Only those who habitually do it, please. I think most people have a pair of pants that for one reason or other look, let's say, less aesthetically pleasing than others. I'm after the women who obviously think they're improving their look with a good solid no-guessing-necessary nether outline.
*** Boy, that was a tough sentence there. What word do you use? Do you go clinical and say vulva? Or do you let it hang out, for potentially humorous results--cooze, cootchie, giggie, cunt? I've never been much for referring to that particular female bit at all if I don't have to, so I took the coward's way out. Sort of.