I spend far too much time looking at (clothed) women’s bellies.
I do it while riding the train to and from work. See, I’m in the habit of sitting in one of the seats near the doors when I ride at commute times. The seats that are supposed to be given up to the elderly, the handicapped, and the pregnant. I’m old enough myself that between my grey beard and my balding head I’ve been offered these seats by other riders, but I’m not yet old enough that I’ve ever accepted such an offer. So I’m sensitive that it can sometimes be a jarring and even unwelcome thing to be offered access to one of these seats.
I watch for people obviously older than I am and I watch for people that clearly have a need to not have to stand. But on the judgement calls, well I’d like to say I’m erring on the side of not hurting people’s feelings but I’m pretty sure I’m just being as selfish as I can without feeling too bad about myself.
And I watch for pregnant ladies. And I struggle to discern the difference between pregnant and pudgy. One thing I don’t want to do is to inadvertently point out to someone that she is getting a little fat. Some people are very sensitive about that.
So I spend a lot of time looking at women’s bellies. To make up for having to do that I also spend some time looking at the crotches of men who are standing right in front of me and speculate about what lies hidden. God says that doesn’t really “make up” for it, but hey it makes me feel better, so it must be good, right?