You know how people who are doctors don't tell people that they're doctors, because of the fact that people then start showing them the gross weird scabby bits they have that need looking after?
Apparently, as a bra fit specialist, I get the same deal, but with breasts.
Sadly, this is not as exciting as one might imagine.
Example:
I was at Walgreens a few days ago with a friend of mine before we went to dinner. While perusing the aisles, I found they sell the Ah bra. I have been debating getting one so I can stop making allegations about it and find out the truth, but I didn't feel like getting one then, and promptly started ranting about it instead.
And this lady just comes a wandering over after eyeballing me and listening to me rant about it, and starts talking.
Not to me mind you, but kind of to the bras.
"Oh, what's this? The Ah bra.... Ohhhhh.... Hmmmm." And she's looking at me out of the corner of her eye as she reaches for one, and it took all the self control I have not to slap it out of her hands and scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" and then shake some sense into her.
But, luckily I am a master of self control, and I very calmly stated my profession and my personal beliefs as to why such a product would be ultimately unhelpful.
And she starts just telling me about how she used to have these great breasts out to here and she lost weight and now, "they're like thin flabby pancakes of skin that just hang down" while kind of shaking them towards me.
Now look folks.
I am a bra fit specialist. I see boobs everyday, and I'm used to it.
But that's at work. We are in public, and I am in no way getting paid to look at your flabby pancake breasts.
Sorry, but that's just how it goes.
So please, try to refrain from filling my mind with terrifying mental images of pancake breasts and old ladies.
I'd really appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Booblogger
(oYo)
No comments:
Post a Comment