About twice a year, I go through a fast food drive-thru for an ice cream cone. 

It never fails that some random male driver will get a bit excited watching me lick my cone. At first, I do not look directly at him. Just before my turn, though, I look into his eyes, which excites him even more. Then I bite — hard! — into the top of the cone. 

The male driver always flinches and speeds away. 

I finish my drive laughing.