Jan. 10th, 2011

emsk: (Default)

I have a capacious bust. It’s apparent to anyone that’s ever met me, it’s the bane of my life when buying clothes, and we won’t talk about how difficult it is to buy a bra that fits properly.


Of course, as every girl with a Bosom knows, your bra becomes a logical place to stash things, in the absence of pockets. And, women’s clothing being as helpfully sans-pockets as it inevitably is, I use mine semi regularly. (Yes, I do have, and regularly use, bags and backpacks and things.)


(Also note: I have never been guilty of handing over bra-sweaty cash or cards. That’s just gross.)


But, one’s bust can conceal a multitude of things. Keys, phone, etc. To date, I have lost a small Leatherman – I tucked it into my bra while tidying up, went to work, came home, wondered why my bra went CLONK when I got undressed that night and threw it on the bed. Surprise, Leatherman!


I’ve lost my phone. Generally in that “argh where are my glasses oh hey, on my head!” fashion, except it’s “where is my phone WHERE oh hey, in my bra”.


Today, I lost my headphones. The in-ear earbud type. I picked them up, ran around the house, drove Tobermory to work, looked for my earbuds so I could save myself from the monotony of the bus trip the rest of the way to work. No earbuds. Not in door of car, not in backpack, no pockets. I even HAD a rummage in my bra, and nope.


Got to work, endured bus ride with Apple headphones generously donated by husband, sat at desk. Noted itchy spot in region of pectorals, had surreptitious scratch. Noted rubbery texture, not common to skin or bra strap. Extracted earbuds. Applied head to desk.


The cleavage toll rises.




Originally published at spinneretta.com
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