My Girls Look Lumpy
Because Christ on a cracker were we all nuts yesterday. Like Jerry Garcia, it was all one long strange trip.
I can't really describe exactly the mood in the office. We were hyper, giddy, practically rubbing our hands together with glee. What were we so goddamn happy about I don't know. We have all been fighting off the flu, maybe we were hopped up on cough supressants.
And we got awfully personal with one another. Much too personal.
An example of this is one of my coworkers. She was showing me a picture of some lingerie in a catalog, she said these boy shorts are what she wears when she wants to "have fun" (her term not mine) with her husband. First of all, don't tell me this shit because we work with this guy, he is just two floors down. I don;t want to know his lingerie preferences. Second, these were not remotely sexy at all. I don't even want to begin to examin why these two get all hot and bothered by this gal wearing what amounts to men's tighty whities.
Another co-worker (who has been losing weight) told Monica that her boyfriend was playing with her boob and said "it's so small." MAN! This girl is still a DD cup. That is like the size of a small European country. Stuffed into her much too tight t-shirt every day. What does the guy want?
No wonder they don't have sex.
Maybe it's not because he's gay.
And we were having all of these conversations out in the open. Seriously, what drugs were we on?
So it's one gal's birthday this weekend so Monica and I head off to Subway again for our free party platter. Their phone wasn't working so we couldn't pre-order. So we patiently waited about half an hour. NO SIGN OF THEM MAKING OUT PLATTER. I finally had to go up to the guy and express to him my extreme displeasure about waiting so long and make it clear that it would take a fucking bulldozer to clear me out of the store so he should just make the goddamn sandwiches.
I did it nice. I think Monica was impressed. She didn't even hide under the table or anything. I just asked him if he was going to make us wait out the entire lunch rush before he made the platter.
He so wanted to say yes.
Luckily for everyone, he had some sense of self-preservation because he got cracking on our order. Five more minutes and I would have jumped over the counter and made us a snotty-fucking-Subway-counter-man-ass sandwich.
Which isn't as appetizing as it sounds.
After our lunch the boss reminds us that the store is doing a charity even downstairs. For every woman that gets fitted for a bra they will donate a dollar to breast cancer research. For some reason we all decide that this would be fund to do together. What a fucking team we are.
On the way down some one suggests that we line up by cup size. Now what is that. I was waiting for HR to swoop down, slap some cuffs on us and haul all our asses to diversity training prison.
Anyway. Every single one of us was wearing the wrong bra. And everyone was wearing one that was too small. Ladies, if you have never been fitted, get thee to a better lingerie department (skip Victoria's Secret they are nasty little vultures) and get this done. I was AMAZED by how much better the ones they suggested made me look.
Of course the gal had to tactfully mention how my too small bra made my breasts look lumpy. So for the rest of the day I was convinced that everyone was staring at my lumpy little breasts.
But I was just kidding myself because I realized that I work with some huge breasted women. Everyone in the department but me and Monica was a D cup or larger. EVERYONE. It's like a fucking Hooters reunion tour up there. And Monica is this little tiny Asian woman who weighs like twenty-seven pounds. She is supposed to be small breasted. I haven't come up with an excuse for me.
Oh and Monica got the deal of the century on some new seven jeans. $54 down from $118, plus our discount! And she claims that they make her look like she has an ass. I took her word for it and didn't go into the dressing room to check.
Fucked up day. I was glad to get on the bus. God I never thought I would even type that sentence.
