out of touch
Fie! A pox on malls!
victoria’s secret is
that I’m flat broke now
It’s been a long time since I had new underwear. Wearing sagging old nursing bras and holey undies isn’t really helping my self-esteem, so I figured, Hey! I’m going to be a published author! Published authors aren’t supposed to wear grayish nursing bras when they aren’t nursing anymore! Published authors aren’t supposed to wear falling apart Hanes Her Ways! Published authors are supposed to be bookish, yet sexy. So I went out in search of bookish, yet sexy, coverings for my bathing suit areas.
This is when I did the unthinkable. I dragged the wee one out to suburban hell for a little Chik-Fil-A and some secreting around with victoria.
$44 for a bra! One bra! Is women’s underwear now priced by OPEC?
I had to hold onto the stroller for support. (There’s a pun in there somewhere.)
The salesgirl was nice, though. Really nice, actually, like earning commission nice. But I don’t think she was earning a commission. Is it true that salesgirl’s will be nice to you for no reason? I’ve never experienced this before today. It was kind of nice. After I choked over the high-dollar brassiere, she helped me find some that were a better price. And some stripey panties, too.
So yay. New undies for me.
Is this one of those TMI posts? Sorry about that. It’s just very exciting to have new underwear. It’s almost as good as getting a haircut.
PS. Is it just me, or is there an abundance of lecherous looking, mustachioed guys that work at those dumb kiosks that sell toy airplanes and candles and embroidered shirts? Seriously, it’s as if they have to go to Perfecting The Wink, Polo Shirt Collar Popping, Mustache Grooming School before they can work a kiosk. It gives me the creeps.