the eugene bean

I went shopping today. Specifically for jeans, long-sleeved shirts, and various undergarments. (As in bras that don't have holes in them, and underwear that stays where it's supposed to.)

The outerwear shopping was a breeze. I found a store, Charlotte Russe, that sells jeans that actually fit a person whose height does not exceed 5 feet. It's a beautiful thing, and buying jeans at this store is actually fun. I got a pair, along with 6 shirts, for less than 90 bucks. Again, a breeze.

Next it's Victoria's Secret. To say that I dislike Victoria's Secret would be a pretty big understatement, seeing that the place makes me want to vomit with its crappy music and horrid, flourescent, vivid pink interior. Unfortunately, I don't know anywhere else that has women dedicated to finding me an underwire, casual yet sexy, low cut bra that has straps that won't slide off my shoulders. Oh, and I'll take that in both nude and black.

Anyway, I'm at the counter checking out and a very young, pert, bubbly, blond saleswoman is ringing me up. No, I don't have a Victoria's Secret card, I tell her. No, thank you, I'm not interested in getting one today, I tell her. I plan on wearing these 2 bras until they have holes in them and the underwire is cutting into my flesh, just so I don't have to come back here and spend $80 on underwear. (I didn't say that part, I just thought it.)

She then tells me: Well, I just really like to tell people about the benefits of having a VS card. You get free stuff on your birthday, you get coupons, oh! and you get free panties. I'd be really upset if I was shopping and I didn't hear about this fantastic deal.
Me: Oh, uh huh. Smile, type in my debit number.
She: You know, I can't tell you how much I love those free panty cards. They're perfect for those nasty bad days, when you really just need a new pair of panties.
Me: Laugh out loud and hope she thinks I'm laughing in agreement and not because I think she's flipping ridiculous, sign the card, get the hell out of there.

All I could think was that on a bad day, what I want are 4 Ibuprofen and a beer. But, my boobs sure look good. And pretty boobs make it well worth the effort.