When we lived in Balaclava there was an Australian/Italian family a few doors from us. Wife, husband and two grown up sons. The sons were hot as and also really nice guys to chat to.
The husband was in his sixties I suppose, dressed very conservatively but reasonably well including a tie, but had a severe limp, probably from polio.
Sometimes in a person of that age, you can see remnants of what they might have looked like when they were young. One of my favourite lines from a book, I forget which one, is 'there are the remains of a very handsome woman there', or something like that. I suggested one of our brother friends use the expression towards his boss, but as yet, he hasn't been game.
But in this elderly neighbour, I could not see a remnant of any attractiveness.
And yet, he very much fancied himself with the ladies. As he limped along the street, he would openly leer at them, he would try chatting them up, he would follow them. Even when conversing with them and they were clearly not wanting any attention, he would persist.
I felt like saying to him, 'hey old man, what makes you think an attractive young blonde lass would be interested in you?'
No matter how annoyed the young women may have been, I never saw any of them speak rudely to him.
I suppose all of you chickie babes, young and experiencing similar now, or have in the past when you were younger could all tell your tales.
Miss Diarist received some unwelcome attention recently. Read her tale here. So how have you all handled it?