The ladies we pinch

There is, it seems, in America, a female police squad which hunts down overly enterprising seducers. If I were a seducer, my first care would be to seduce the brigadier of this brigade; Shall we see later?

God knows I abhor this breed of advantageous men who think they only have to look at a woman for her to fall into their arms. “I’m putting it in my vest!” as they say in Bordeaux.

But, if these gallantines deserve to come across a gaslight, I am wary of the ladies who complain at every opportunity of being the victims of their crazy enterprises. They are always the same and they are rarely the most beautiful.

Because the sassy is eclectic when he crushes his feet on a bus or pinches his waist in the metro. All tastes are in nature and all pots find their lid, as they say.

Maupassant claimed that a mysterious sign from the woman authorizes the man to speak. If this sign exists, do the naughty girls who are pushed around protest only to get noticed?

I do not claim that all pretty women show such haughty dignity that no one ever attacks them; but I know well why they don't cause a scandal when an adventurous prospector besieges them: they're used to it.

D.