Cleaving in Croatia
I was on my hike to town, motivated in part by exercise and budget, which has been narrowed down to a measly 12km (getting lost is a thing of the past!). [Did you know that (in Pula) the cost of a one-way bus journey is equivalent to two liters of petrol?] I stop at the traffic light post, waiting for my green cue. Nothing special about today, I threw on my green fuzzy hat I use to hide my unruly hair, black Ray-Ban’s, and the same arsenal of comfy clothing I’ve had for months now: jeans and a slightly big, long-sleeve, grey v-neck thermal top. My head and shoulders lean against the light post to support my laziness, random thoughts wafting through my head like why it’s so warm out already and whether or not I will indulge in gelato, and I suddenly notice that traffic is bunching up near the crosswalk and intersection. I look ahead of traffic for the answer, but find nothing…the road is clear. So switching gears to analytical mode, I look around me and find nothing unusual. Skeptical, I wonder if this one of those dreams where I wake up in public with just my skivvies? Nope, pinch check – I’m clothed. Is my fly down? Are my boxers showing? No and no. Well, alrighty then. What is it that everyone is looking – and why is it coincidentally men looking in my direction? The only possible reason left is that the backpack is altering the fit of my shirt and a wee little bit of cleavage is showing. Just a wee, after all this is me we’re talking about here. No insane endowments to speak of. I never figured myself as a traffic stopper, but in rural Croatia I guess a little cleavage goes a long way.
Tags: Croatia, men, Pula, traffic, Travel, Tag Index
cristi.farrell