Do you ever find yourself staring at a beautiful woman and wondering if you have crossed the line? A little oogling is OK, but how much is too much? And who makes the decision on how much oogling is allowed? Where’s the line between admiration and inappropriate gawking?
Let’s start this discussion on twenty-third street in lower Manhattan, a corridor through a manufacturing district with dark, aging buildings teeming with garment workers, loading docks bustling, the street loud and unapologetic. This is where men and women sweat out a living, one way or another. Some of the woman lay on their backs to make a buck. Some of my co-workers back then were their customers. They had wives at home, but a little extramarital romp was OK once in a while.