Trapped in a Fishbowl

At work, my desk is the first thing one sees when entering our office. I'm the receptionist/office administrator/personal assistant extrordinaire, which explains the location of my desk. Our office shares the floor with an engineering/architectural firm, with one of their corridors going right in front of my desk. Now, this wouldn't seem so bad, except that the front doors to our office are made 99.99% of clear glass. So I can see exactly who is walking by, who is going to the bathroom without washing their hands (trust me, I KNOW who you are), and what time people sneak out to go home for the day. Only problem is....they can see me too. No big deal, right?
Kinda.
Not to stereotype, but a good percentage of engineers/architects are men. Some of these men are young and kind of cute. Others are not. One man in particular bugs me a bit, just because my "CREEPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" alarm goes off every time he walks by and looks at me in a way that makes my skin crawl a little. Now I'm sure that he's a perfectly nice gentleman, greatly respected by his peers and subordinates alike, but the too-short shorts, long semi-greasy hair and outright staring start to get on my nerves a bit.
On a happier note, some of the nice neighbor folks have poked their head in and introduced themselves. Do I remember their names? Of course not, which is strange because I'm generally pretty good with names. But they always smile and wave as they walk by.
And this cute guy has been starting to wave....hmmm....
Maybe life in a fishbowl isn't so bad.