So I was doing some bra shopping, which is always a little awkward even if there isn’t some dude with crazy eyes lurking in the lingerie section (I’m still not sure if he was winking at me or if he had some kind of nervous tic). I don’t know if it’s just me, but I always feel like I can’t buy just a bra. I feel like I’ve got to throw in a T-shirt or some shoes or something. It’s like buying tampons. I always feel compelled to throw in a little something extra. For instance, behold this texting conversation that took place a few days ago:
ELODIE: Problem! I’m buying tampons, and Josh Aldrin is working the only available register, and his hair looks really good, and I don’t know what to do. Help?
JACLYN: There aren’t any self-checkouts?
ELODIE: Out of order. All two of them.
JACLYN: Josh Aldrin is a beautiful male.
ELODIE: Thus the problem! I don’t want him scanning and bagging my tampons!
JACLYN: Okay. Hm. Let’s see. There’s a solution here, we just have to find it. OH, I know. Buy a bunch of other stuff!
JACLYN: Buy more stuff. Like, dog treats. A cheese wheel. I don’t know. It’ll look like buying tampons was just an afterthought. Maybe even for someone else.
ELODIE: I’m lurking in the frozen food section clutching a box of tampons, and your advice to me is to buy a cheese wheel.
ELODIE: At this point I’ll try anything.
(I didn’t buy a cheese wheel, but I did buy lots of peanut butter.)