👀 The Blank Male Stare: A Field Guide

By Nolan

If you’ve ever felt the eerie, brain-dead weight of a man’s gaze as you walked past — not leering, not challenging, just... vacant — this is for you.

I’m talking about that look: the open-mouthed, eyes-hanging-out stare older men sometimes give in public spaces. You feel it burn into your side as you pass — like they’re watching you and not watching you at the same time. It doesn’t feel like danger. It feels like TV static. But it still puts you on edge.

🛋️ The Recliner Gaze

Imagine a man slumped in a La-Z-Boy, watching his 56th commercial break of the evening. His jaw is slightly open. His face is slack. That’s the stare I mean. It’s not personal. It’s not flattering. It’s not even particularly aware. It's more like you’ve interrupted his internal broadcast — and now he's buffering.

🧠 What’s Going On?

From what I can tell, several things are happening:

• Auto-Gawk Mode
  Decades of social programming trained these men to scan every woman or “non-male entity” in view. It's a reflex, not a thought. You moved. He looked. That’s it.
• TV-Face Creep
  If you stare at a screen long enough, your face learns to do nothing. That facial blankness spills out into public life. They’re not seeing you, they’re responding to motion.
• System Idle
  No inner monologue. No judgment. Just a half-century-old operating system in sleep mode. You walked into the motion detector beam.
• Residual Entitlement
  In some generational software, the world is still their movie. You’re a set piece, not a co-star. And so they gawk like you're part of the landscape.

🎭 I Tried Saying Hello

Just to test the waters, I’ve looked a few of these men in the eye and said, “How ya doin’” with a polite nod.

Response?

Nothing. No flinch. No smile. No sign of life.

That’s how I know it’s not a social exchange. It’s not lust or aggression. It’s pure vacancy. You’re dealing with something that’s not really home.

🧃 The “Wife Defense Protocol”

One time I actually startled a guy into semi-consciousness. The panic on his face was like someone caught sneaking snacks in a hospital bed.

He fumbled for a reason to exist:
“Gofloff ofda… just waitin’ on my damn wife to hurry up.”

That’s the default emergency phrase for startled men of a certain era. Blame the wife. She’s late. She made me come here. I’m not creepy, I’m just a passenger in her day.

It’s like hitting CTRL+ALT+DELETE on his soul.

🔍 So What Do We Do With This?

I’m not suggesting we chase these men through Target shouting “EXPLAIN YOUR STARE.” That’s not the move. But I do think it helps to name it.

This stare isn’t about power. It’s not a threat most of the time. It’s the residue of cultural conditioning, emotional disconnection, and mental atrophy. Still annoying? Yes. Still uncomfortable? Absolutely. But at least now you can clock it for what it is:

The unconscious surveillance of the publicly dormant male.

And maybe — just once — give them a jolt of awareness.

Try:
“Hey man, you alright? You’re staring like you forgot where you are.”

Then walk away. Leave them to reboot.

— Nolan

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