I took great comfort this morning in the fact that, when I caught myself staring at a woman’s ass this morning on the F train, it was not her ass that I was contemplating but the stitching on her back pockets. This is absolutely true, and a perfectly legitimate subject of homosexual male interest.
Lord… if someone had called me on it, I would have been far less embarrassed by my staring at a woman’s butt than my staring at a woman’s butt. I hope no one saw me. As Hollywood said in the tragically unrerrated Andrew McCarthy/Kim Cattrall star-maker Mannequin: “I have a reputation to uphold.”
... but enough about me 
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