Just the other day, you probably remember it well, it was just the other day. You remember that? Just the other day, I swear to God, people, it was just the other day.* I was walking into the building ahead of Leslie and she said … “Cute undies.”
Leslie: Your undies are cute. I didn’t know you liked pink.
Me: How the … ?
Leslie: You have a hole in your jeans.
Sure enough, I went to the restroom and checked, big ol’ hole. The next day I was walking in front of her and said, “What color are my panties?”
And she looked and I whirled around and said, “Stop checking out my ass!” but in kind of a muted stage whisper because … you know … that’s not the kind of thing you should be shouting in an office.
Fast forward to today …
Leslie: I’m not checking out your boobs, but you’ve got something on your sweater.
Me: You should look at my boobs. I have great boobs. They’re better than my ass which you seem to like.
Leslie: Not really. They’re kind of … um …
Me: Kind of perfect. I know.
Leslie: We should go shopping. You need new bras. I know you and I know you haven’t bought a new bra in years.
Me: A) That’s not true. And B) what the hell is wrong with my bra?
Leslie: You need something to push them up a little.
Me: Up? Up? Did you just say my boobs are sagging? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO ME?
Leslie: Sports bras are fine for around here, unless there’s someone you’re checking out, but you need some oomph.
And then she made an obscene gesture near her own chest, pushing the air up and out.
Me: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO ME?
Leslie: If you have a date, you want to stand out.
Me: I STAND OUT. It’s because I was slouching.
(standing up straight)
Leslie: Yeah … that’s not gonna get it. You need new bras.
I fumed for a few hours but when I was getting ready to meet a friend tonight, I found myself reaching for my industrial strength, steel-girded bra.
You know what? They are a little perkier now.
*If you can identify that bit of song intro banter, you probably love music, but also, you should probably get a job or something.