Observation: Women Fiddling

This is something that I've observed over the years: women are always fiddling with stuff.

It was kind of brought to my attention reasonably recently, at a stoplight. Waiting...waiting...a woman coming down the street opposite...she's touching her hair...she opens up her handbag and starts rummaging through it while walking...

It was the last which made me go: "What the fuck?"

There she is, walking down the footpath on a cold day, adjusting/touching her hair randomly, then she gets the urge to rummage around the contents of her handbag. Why on earth? Can pretty-much guess that there was no mirror in the thing. It sure wasn't a windy morning. Did she think something had randomly appeared or disappeared in there?

Perhaps she needed something to do with her hands. (There was no cock handy so the purse was the only plausible substitute.)

This made me think about all the times that I've seen this and similar behavior. Thinking about it, it appears to be a form of preening (I'm being charitable - it could be simple ADD, less attention-span than a gnat). What makes me think it's a form of preening is because they're always fiddling with:

• hair
• lipstick
• makeup
• jewelry
• rummaging in the handbag (checking the condoms? it's yours, you know what's in there)
• wineglass stem (cock-substitute)
• cigarette (cock-substitute)
• cellphone (bigass cock-substitute + narcissistic drug + fuckknowswhatelse to Sauron's minions)

Most of these come under the heading of preening, or some substitute thereof. I wonder what goes through their heads as they do these things: "Do I look all right?" "Am I perfect?" "Look at meeeeee!" That's assuming that it's not a vacuous void, empty of thought, a reflexive loop-action like a machine - which I have met some girls that would 100% be accurate of, they can barely walk and chew gum at the same time they're so stupid.

So there I was, the only male in sight, waiting patiently in a car for the light to turn green - and a woman who was touching her hair as she walked (personal reassurance?) suddenly starts to fish around vigorously in her handbag as she's walking.

Who knows, maybe she had a sudden urge for her cock-substitute aka cellphone. If so, she didn't find it - she shut her handbag and pressed the pedestrian button, just as my light turned green. And was touching her hair again as I pulled through the intersection.

Nero fiddles while Rome burns? Naaaahhhhh...