boston staring out your window

Here is the one weird thing about Boston (aside from the ridiculous number of Dunkin Donuts): the east coast size up. Every person I passed on the street looked at me; no, they didn't look. They stared. Straight out, up and down, in the eyes, stared at me. Men, women, I even think a pigeon gave me the eye. It was surreal. For a little while I decided I must be the hottest stuff to hit beantown so I worked it until I decided that many people cannot be in awe of my cuteness. I kept checking my pants, my top, my shoes, my teeth. 

I mentioned this phenomenon to the miso and he said this use to happen to him in New Haven. There it was guys looking at you to determine (and let you know) whether they could take you in a bar fight. I'm not quite sure how this translates to the ladies, so I'm just going to toss my question out to the internets: what the fuck is up with the boston stare? Seriously, I otherwise totally love my new home city, but I don't know if I can handle three years of thinking my skirt is tucked into my underwears.