What? I like boobs...

So my neighbor stops by to ask if Tony can help move a chest of drawers. I answer the door with my drink in hand and explain that he's still at work, but I'm sure he'll help when he gets home.  The neighbor keeps glancing at my drink. I'm wondering if she thinks I'm a lush, even though I'm drinking Pepsi. We chat a while longer and she turns to go, continuing her neighborhood hunt for big strong men available immediately, after one more glance at my sinful, supposedly alcoholic refreshment.

I return to the couch and my book (sadly not a great one.). After a few minutes, I reach for my glass and as I glance up, I realize what my neighbor was staring at.