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Honest, I wasn’t staring at your boobs

I do not make it a practice to read aloud or otherwise comment on things printed on the front of women's T-shirts or tank tops.

This is especially true when the garment in question is straining to contain the wearer's front porch, as it were.

But today I could not resist.

Dismounting from the salon chair after gettting a haircut, I noticed one person sitting in the waiting area. It was a curvy woman who might be in her middle or late 30s. She had on a tight top that said "Champlain College."

When I say tight, I mean really tight.

I told her that I knew of a Champlain College in Burlington, Vermont.

Same one, she said.

I told her that I had gone to high school in Burlington and that I had moved my parents to Spokane from there in 2000.

I volunteered that it was a pretty terrific little city. She agreed.

It turned out she had done some sort of online program through the school. But she had been  to Vermont once or twice during the duration of her studies.

The stylist noted that this woman had recently graduated.

Maintaining a laser-lock gaze on her face, I congratulated her.

I'll bet I'm only person she'll meet today who has lived in the Green Mountain State. But I won't be the last to read her chest. 

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The Slice

The online home for Paul Turner's musings and interactions with disciples of The Slice.