I scrunched myself inward, recoiling like one of those neon colored scrunchies from the 1990’s that had been stretched too far. It doesn’t matter how many times a man does it, I always have that reaction.
I stood in the hallway in that public place, just killing time. Thirty minutes to wait and a constant trickle of people washing in and out of that little passageway I stood in. Nothing could be better for a bit of people watching. Scan Up and Down Man entered the hall, deciding to return the favor.
It seems to me that about fifty percent of men do a scan up and down as a five-second examination of a woman immediately upon seeing one. Mind you, I don’t really think it matters what the woman looks like, she only needs to be between the ages of say 18 and 50 to qualify. I think that it is largely an unconscious action and I don’t really fault them for it.
Instinct must drive it. On some ancient level that mammalian brain of approximately 50 percent of male society thinks to itself: That looks like fertile ground. I could drop some seeds here. Ooh, and look, there’s another fertile one. I could drop some seeds there. Ooh, and look…
Anyway, I recoiled like the stretched out scrunchie internally, while externally I broke eye contact and turned my head. This reaction is also unconscious most of the time. I wonder if most women react in the same way. It is as though my ancient instincts say in response: Yes, yes, I’ve heard that before, but the only farmer doing any seed sowing here is going to be the one with the most bear skins. Or, maybe it should be the one with the most impressive spear made out of a mammoth tusk. I haven’t decided yet.
Whatever the reason, it does seem that the drive behind it fades quickly. Within another couple seconds the animalistic nature of it all is gone. I turned my head back without making direct eye contact; he made a polite nod, I returned the polite nod, and we thought nothing of it, like modern humans.
With him out of sight, I turned my attention to the next person. I figured I’d do a little make-believe dress-up—you know, sort of jump into someone else’s life. The next character was a teenager arguing with her mom. That wasn’t interesting—I already did that fifteen years ago. Next up was a lady dressed to the nines with a materialistic air to her. I decided I didn’t really want to jump into those clothes.
I shifted in the hallway, a bit frustrated by my lack of good material. Then a lady walked in with the largest butt I’d ever seen. It was fascinating. I gawked at her while she was facing the other direction. It wasn’t in an amorous way, or a repulsed way, it was just genuine fascination. I wonder what that butt looks like naked? I thought, and it was this thought that led to an epiphany.
Typical me, I overthought the crap out of this. That quick scan up and down of women isn’t an instinct lingering from the ancient mammalian brain that seeks to grow our race by reproducing. Well, at least not directly. It is just a very visually stimulated male brain saying: I wonder what that one looks like naked. And that one. That one too—ooh yeah that’s a good one, and that one…
In response my brain then says: Keep that x-ray vision to yourself! And my body promptly recoils.
It was an interesting turn of events. I wondered if I ought to dub myself Scan Up and Down Woman, since clearly Scan Up and Down Man and I have some shared interests. I wondered a few things related to that lady’s butt. I had the feeling if I stood there long enough contemplating the male vs. female brain and very large butts I might discover the meaning of life.
But the thirty minutes was up, and people watching was done. I emptied my mind.
I ran into Scan Up and Down Man on the way out. We shared a polite nod again.