The More Things Change the More They Stay the Same

I woke up today and watched the end of St Elmos's Fire on cable. While it isn't the finest example of the brat pack's work it still has it's own charm. One subplot that parallels my life is Mare Winningham's desire for independence. Also her late in life loss of her virginity. She, not so unlike myself, fell for the wrong guy, slept with him and then he promptly left town. It's all pretty funny when I look at it now.
Somehow I got to thinking about sex, go figure, while driving home the other day. I was making a case to talk my ex-boyfriend into helping me move when the time came up. My evidence was that we have been friends for two years, I have been there for when he was down, and I let him touch my breasts. Then I got to thinking was the last point a valid one? Is the touching of my breasts special enough to require an ex to move furniture up flight of stairs? So I made a list of all the people who I let touch my breasts. I decided it should be naked breasts in a sexual context to count. When all was said in done I figured since I was nineteen years old, 14 people have touched my breasts, 13 guys and 1 girl. In ten years that figures almost one and a half persons groping me a year. So I think I have a do have a valid argument.
Plus they are nice breasts.