The Cleavage Meter

My office was the center of the great cleavage debate this week. Since I am male, I chose to keep my comments to a minimum. My comments, such as they were, fell in line with the "cover those things up" side of the debate.

Oddly enough, the pro-cleavage debater chose to show up the next day with even more cleavage in evidence, complete with a lovely gold bauble ensconced deep inside said cleavage. It was rather late in the day when the subject was brought up, but when it was brought up, the pro-cleavage side suggested that perhaps the first outfit in question wasn't an issue because this second, more alluring outfit had somehow escaped comment. What!!!? Was I supposed to comment as soon as she walked in the door? I seem to remember something about sexual harassment and the like, and I generally assume discussing various parts of my co-worker's anatomy can get me into trouble.

Thankfully, today, the cleavage meter returned to a more respectable level. I overheard something along the lines of, "I just couldn't keep it up," which I hope means the end of, at the very least, the ridiculous. She is, after all, an allegedly happily married mom, whom, I suspect, is being encouraged to behave badly by individuals who enjoy scandal and do not have her best interests at heart.

Frankly, this comes down to immaturity and irresponsibility. Strangely, the person who has the cleavage in question is probably the most responsible one of the bunch. And yet, she gets sucked into this silliness, actually exposing her own body to make some silly point. She is actually uncomfortable when she makes bad clothing choices; she'll spend most of the day with her hand fluttering up to cover the gap. So the only reason she would be doing this is to make that adolescent statement of sexual power, all the while abdicating any real responsibility for it. It is, in the end, antithetical to the vows of marriage, and I think she has simply refused to think about it, choosing instead to pretend it was some question of fashion or liberty.

I am learning. I think God put me right here to learn how to deal with women being angry with me. I am learning that their ire doesn't affect me all that much. Sometimes the only remedy for fear of confrontation is repeated confrontation.