OK, that was different. I don't feel particularly sleek right now, but I'm pretty sure I was the oggle-ee this morning instead of an Oggle-er.
I drove into the city after the masters workout, parked like I always do, grabbed my gym bag and brief case like I always do, and headed for the elevator like I always do. I was on my way to the gym across the street from my office to shower and change into my Clark Kent disguise.
It's not as if I was wearing a Speedo and running around without a shirt and flexing my abs. I had on a pair of "Jammers," an MS150 T-shirt, and some flip flops.
So, the elevator door opens and three women are inside--two older than my mom, but one about 10 years younger than me.
In my peripheral vision, I saw her look at my face . . . . then I saw her eyes drop . . .
Suddenly, Greyhound . . . especially . . . uhm . . . "greyhound" . . . felt a bit conspicuous, notwithstanding the Nike swimsuit.
She may very well have just thought I looked ridiculous given my lack of business attire, . . . but I'm pretty sure I was oggled. She was checking me out.
I am not used to this.