It was probably intended as flattery, or dude is just bad with dimensions, but in the course of normal conversation last night, a guy asked me, “How much could you possibly weigh, like 110?”
Oh.
Oh, honey.
Hair and breasts alone, you can’t possibly believe that.
I’m not complaining about my weight, I’m adorable. But I’m not 110.
Wait ’til you witness the reverb when you spank my ass, sir — adjust your numbers and report back.
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You know, I’m pretty sure guys are clueless about how various weights look on real women. And possibly afraid of offending us.
This. The average guy has no clue how the numbers relate to actual women he knows. (The ones that do have enough sense to realize that guesstimating on the high side is usually not well-received.)