Today I went shopping with my friend Missy, who is really the best, even if it does take her forever to make a decision about anything (she makes me the decisive one, which is really something). I am not really much of a shopper, in that I usually only like to go when I have something in mind, and then I like to buy what I want to buy and then leave. But today I seemed to be in a shopping kind of mood. I went into stores and looked at things and then bought them. I was in kind of a crappy mood earlier this morning so perhaps I just needed to engage in some good old-fashioned retail therapy. My spirits are lifted, and my bank account is much lighter, and hurrah, etc.
Anyway. I was in Victoria’s Secret for awhile and Victoria’s Secret is a hilarious store for all kinds of reasons — over the summer I was in there and I bought some underwear, as one does in Victoria’s Secret, and the girl who rang up my purchases had to compliment me on each item and it got kind of creepy and hilarious after a couple of minutes, and I always meant to write that story and I guess I just did — and I saw this bra I liked. I don’t usually buy bras there because I can get three at Target for the price of one at Victoria’s Secret, for one thing, and for another thing, I just don’t. But it was pretty and like I mentioned earlier, I was apparently in a shopping kind of mood, so I found it in what I thought was my size and to be on the safe side, I tried it on and there was… much spillage. And I thought “Huh. Did my boobs spontaneously get bigger? Again?” And I walked around the store some more and Missy was taking awhile to make a decision about something and one of the sales associates asked me if I needed any help with anything, and you know how they’re all serious, dressed in black with the pink tape measures around their necks and this is also hilarious? Well, I thought maybe I needed a bra fitting, so I said “I thought that this was my size, but now I’m not sure.” And she asked “DO YOU NEED A BRA FITTING?” And I said “Um, yeah, I think so.” And then she asked if I wanted to have the fitting in one of the fitting rooms or if we could do it right there on the floor where all these people were out and about, doing their underwear shopping, and I expressed my preference for a fitting room, and then she said that she was kind of new at doing fittings but she would go ahead and do it and then get a second opinion, if that was okay, and I felt oddly kind of sorry for her, but I also thought it was funny, and then I guess it’s not convenient to get a second opinion on boob size in a fitting room or something so she asked me if I would just go ahead and lift my arms and I said “Sure, fine,” and she did the measurements and then didn’t say anything for a minute, just held the tape measure in place, which is, you know, a bit awkward, and then she called a fellow sales associate over and asked if she would measure my boobs and I’m just standing there thinking “Gosh, this is entertaining.” So the other girl does the measurements and then she looks at the tape measure and then up at me, then back at the tape measure and then she says “Hm.” And I thought maybe this would be the time when she would tell me what size bra to buy so we could be done, so I stared at her with that look on my face, that one I get sometimes, the impatient one, and she just kept on looking at the tape measure, because apparently my rack is fascinating or something and then finally she asked, “Well, what size bra do you normally buy?” So I told her (apparently they have to quiz you first? they can’t just tell you?) and she nodded and said “Yes, that’s right. But you could really go up a cup size.” And I looked at my boobs and thought “Really? Girls, we have arrived.” And then I said “Thanks.” And then I tried the next size up and yeah, that worked. So, a happy ending.
And then I told myself I wasn’t allowed to buy any more stuff but I bought some more stuff. Oops. The end.
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