During yesterday morning's walk an attractive woman with relatively large breasts passed by.

”You think they're real?” my wife asked.

The smart answer would have been: Huh? But, no, I said, "Yeah, I think they are the way they jiggled like jello."

"So you were looking . . ."

"Last time I checked . . .," I dug my hand deep into my pocket and fiddled around, "yup, I am still a man. What do you expect? I see something jiggling like in the corner of my eye and I'm going to peek. I have no control over this. That's how guy's are wired."

"Hmm. So, what's more important to you—face or boobs."

"Face. Definitely the face. But, when I'm walking around town, I'll probably notice the figure, the breasts first. So, I'll check out the woman's breasts first, then look at her face, then back at her breasts, then, I guess I'll have a look at her ass . . ."

"You've got a whole system, haven't you?"

"I do try to be efficient in all things I do."

"If you're so attracted to large breasts . . ."

"Those weren't that large. But they were good size. Just the right size. You don't want a woman with watermelons or even cantaloupes. Navel oranges are nice. So is the occasional grapefruit, but never an amanatsu."

"Are you a greengrocer?"

"No, I'm just saying big, relatively big, is nice, but too big is just going to cause you trouble down the road."

"Say you have to choose between a beautiful woman and one with large breasts . . ."

"The beautiful one, of course."

"Why?"

"I don't want to have ugly kids. That woman's face may end up on my offspring . . ."

"So it's instinct."

"Probably. The same is true with tall women. I like tall, slender, athletic women . . . Well, like you."

"Okay. So face over boobs?"

"Definitely!"

"How 'bout boobs over height? A tall, slender woman with no boobs or a short woman with nice breasts."

That gave me pause for thought. I'd had both over the years and liked both. Preferred taller women, yes, but, breasts . . . There was that one girl who was quite adorable. She was really short, but had . . . Hmm . . . She was a lot of fun, though. But then there's something about walking around town with a tall, slim good-looking woman. Everyone's head turns . . . Hmm . . .

I must have walked over a block when my wife finally said, "You're really thinking about it, aren't you? I don't think I've ever seen you so lost in thought. You're the worst."