Time and time again I give people advice and they dont listen. They ask me a question, then argue with my answer. Customers ask me questions, then argue with me. If I ask for their ID, they argue with me. People really, really, really like to argue with me. Have I made my point yet?
One thing that really bothers me is when a clerk in a store argues with me about my fucking clothing size. Oh My God. Who wears the clothes that I buy? ME. I decide what fucking size i get. Yesterday, I made the horrible mistake of going bra shopping. This has NEVER been a fun experience in my entire 22 years. I have a 38F chest. Not sure if yall realize, but thats fucking huge and nowhere except plus size stores carry them that big. I am not thin, but not heavy enough to wear clothing from a plus size store. Thats only the beginning of the trouble.
Yesterday, I went into Lane Bryant, the only store that I have ever found that sells bras I can KINDA wear. I went in and asked the lady what the best kind of bra was to wear under low cut shirts. She tells me to get the plunge bra. I was like, "oh well nevermind. I cant wear those. I just fall out the middle" so shes all, "dude that means you gotta go up a cup size" and im like, "nah i dont think so. im already and F there is no way I can go up another size". She then makes the most fatal mistake she could have. She says to me, "There is no way you are an F cup." She tries to prove me wrong by giving me each style of bra they offer in sizes 38DD, 38DDD, 40DD AND 40DDD. So, thats 4 different sizes in 3 different style of bra. 12 bras. After I try each one on, she wants me to model it so she can see how it fits. She tugs, pulls, adjusts to no avail. Cups are too small, straps are too long, too much back fat, too loose.
We repeat this process only God knows how many times.
At this point, Im sweating my ass off from all the hooking, turning, tightening and loosening thats going on, and getting very aggitated since I had been up for 16 hours already, and had to be at work in less than 5 hours. I was tired, sweaty, hungry, and pissed.
After trying on all those bras, cursing at my chest, and nearly crying out of frustration, I had finally given up hope for the night. She had finally gotten the hint that I CANNOT wear a 40 because it is too big and that I CANNOT wear a DD because it is too small. As Im turning to leave the store she says to me...
"You can always go online and order this one in a 38F. We know that will fit."
It took every fiber of my being to not beat her in the face with a 40DD lace demi blah blah what the fuck ever kinda bra she was pushing on me like a crack dealer. I kept my composure and smiled politely. Aloud, I was all like, "yeah i might try that. if it doesnt fit ill just bring it back." but on the inside, i was screaming, "BITCH I TOLD YOU 45 FUCKING MINUTES AGO THAT I WAS A GOD DAMN 38F!!! 45 FUCKING MINUTES AGO!!!"
When will people realize I'm always right?
*Since my shopping trip yesterday, Ive only slept a total of 1.5 hours. Ive worked, gone to DMV, surfed the internets, and eaten. Ive been up for like 35 hours, and in my fit of sleep deprivation just agreed to work tonight, my night off. If this post isnt up to your expectations, you can kiss my pancake ass.*
Ah, Lane Bryant. I loved that store when I was married. My ex wife was 5'3" and a 52J. Yeah, you read that right. On occasion, she could go into LB, order 3 bras on Special Order and not pay an arm and a leg. Once when we went, a "Professional Bra Fitter" was there and did a fitting. Say what you want, and yes, I'm such a guy, but watching my ex get felt up by another woman was oddly hot and disturbing at the same time. Ah, good old LB.
ReplyDeleteI said that to say this. Corsets. Being busty and maybe a roll here and there, corsets do wonders for pulling it all in, pushing the boobs up and out, and making every shirt you wear look awesome.Plus, as a guy, I love it if you leave it on when we get frisky, and it can be both shirt and lingerie. Just a thought...