Getting Our Wires Crossed

I hate shopping most of the time, but sometimes, well, it’s just necessary.

Today I shopped for bras and underwear. Now that’s necessary!

The underwear is easy. I just grab a few packs of briefs and high cuts, and maybe a pack of low riders just to be super exciting, but bras . . . well.

My boobs are supersized. I hate them. They serve no purpose. I often think it would be nice to get breast cancer, because then I could get rid of them.

If I ever won the lottery, I would go right in and have a breast reduction.

I have no idea why they got so big and icky, but there they are.

And because they’re so big and icky, it’s difficult to find bras that fit properly. And to make it more difficult, it seems like 90% of the bras on sale are underwire.

I can’t stand underwire bras. I’ve tried wearing them many times, but the wire digs into my ribs. So I LOVE wireless bras.

But they’re hard to find. In my gigantic size.

After scrounging around in the display shelves and racks, I finally found four bras that were my size and were NOT underwire. It took forever, but my diligence paid off.

When I was checking out, the cashier, who maybe was a bit older than I am, commented on the reasonable price of my bras. I told her it was a small victory that I found bras that were not underwire.

“Yes, I don’t wear underwire bras anymore,” she replied. “I used to, but now, well, they don’t fit right for me.”

This woman has normal sized boobs, not the kind that prevent people standing close to you, like my monsters.

“Well, I’ve never been able to wear underwire bras, so I was glad to find these,” I told her.

“Now I have to wear a bra that clasps in front,” she said, “because I can’t get my arms around my back to fasten it.”

I guess we all have our own bra problems.