No, you may not touch my breasts.

Why oh why? Alas, men seem to think that I have no face, no brain, no bottom...they do however recall my knees (after a swift kick to their groin to bring them back to reality). Yes, I will confess that there is a reason that my friends call me "Hooters" and "Big Boobs MaGee." However, this does in no way give you the right to openly stare, grope, drool or fondle yourself in front of me.
Truly...men seem to have no tact, see for yourself:

1. A street vendor was walking around selling roses in a local bar I was visiting with some friends. During mid-conversation, she laid a yellow rose in front of me and jerked her head towards a guy sitting behind us. "He said to give this to the girl with the big tits." Lovely. Thank you.
2. During my days as a server I very rarely had men tell me their drink orders. They instead ordered them to my breasts. (Right breast) "I'd like a Heineken please." (Left Breast) "Make mine a Sam Adams."
3. A friend was introducing me to a guy she wanted to hook me up with. As we shook hands and I introduced myself...his eyes took on that familiar glaze..."Hi, I'm Chad (*pause*), seriously, those can't be real." Well Chad...now you'll never know.
4. While serving a table of teenage guys, a male co-worker stopped at the table (knowing that I was wearing a bra that clasped in the front) and wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. He stepped back with a satisfied nod as my clasp popped open, he tipped his hat and said..."you can thank me later boys."

Then there is always the never failing:

1. Would you like to engage in a game of open handed boobie boxing?
2. During cases of emergency, Linny can be used as a floatation device.
3. Hooters, hooters, hooters...Yum Yum Yum.