This is SO not my fault.
I know what you're thinking, but when you hear what happened you'll realize the situation was truly beyond my control.
I think maybe my boobs have their very own personality. What do you think? Could it be possible? No matter how I try, they always escape. My breasts keep making appearances whether or not I give them permission. My tits are like wayward teenagers with a mind of their own.
I can wear a "real" bra now. Real is a funny word though. Six weeks post-reduction surgery it has to be a "soft" bra with no underwire. Many of you gave me suggestions on bras to try and I bought a few different styles to see what's comfortable. (My boobs are still tender and a little bruised even now.) My nipples continue to beam out at everyone in their super bionic state.
I have turgid nipples. I've always wanted to write turgid nipples. Is there any other time when it's appropriate to use the word turgid except with the word nipple?
Remember when I wrote pre-surgery wondering if men would ever look at me again without my DD breasts? They do. Only now I'm convinced they look at me because my nipples are waving at them and yelling, "Look at me! I'm hyper-sensitive and magical!"
Men know nipple language. They seem to instantly understand exactly what my nipples are saying. (My nipples talk without my permission, mind you!) Men are attracted to talking nipples and especially magical ones.
I tried one of my new bras for the first time the other day. I realized it was much looser than when I bought it. I had only worn it briefly the day I purchased it. It was very loose around my rib cage but not in the cup area. I think the swelling along my ribs is subsiding and I already need a size (or two) smaller bra. I had a lot to do though, and decided to keep the rather loose bra on for the day.
That was my first mistake.
A couple hours into my day the thought crossed my mind, "This bra is ridiculously loose!"
I didn't stop to really listen to that thought.
That was my second mistake.
An hour or so further into my day I thought, "I may as well not even HAVE a bra on – this thing is worthless!"
Um … why did the light bulb not go on at that point?
In my defense, I'm totally out of control busy right now. My cup runneth over with commitments and activities. My brain is whirring at a million miles an hour and not even in the same stratosphere as my body. Honestly, I don't know how I'm going to get through the next six weeks because I'm so overbooked.
Among other places, I went to the car wash that day. The men there? They were so friendly. I've never had such great service. They were fawning over me in an effort to take the very best care of my car. How often do you have five service men talking to you before your car even starts moving through the big giant car washing tunnel?
I waited for my car to be cleaned in the air conditioned waiting room because we've had quite a heat wave in Orange County recently. There's nothing like some cool, chilly, air on uber-sensitive nipples, don't ya think?
I glanced down at one point and realized my nipples were …. Well, my nipples were very present and in attendance. It's not unusual for that to be the case since my surgery though, so I didn't think twice about it.
That would be mistake number three.
It took one hour for my car to be washed at the Money Town car wash. One hour is pretty standard there, although I realize it's longer than most car washes. During that one hour I sat in the air conditined waiting room. When I got restless I walked around once in awhile looking at the little gifts they offer for purchase. I also spent a lot of time talking to the very friendly male customers who were also waiting for their cars. No less than four men struck up conversations while I waited.
Money Town has never been so friendly!
By the time I got back in my car to drive home I was really in a good mood. I was thinking, "People are so nice! What a friendly, social time I had at the car wash today!"
I was back at home a few minutes later. As I walked in the door I again was bothered by the bra moving all around my ribcage. I decided this particular brand of bra was headed for the trash.
Right then I looked up to see Briefcase staring at me.
"What?" I asked.
"You went to the car wash without a bra on?" he queried with one raised eyebrow.
I looked down at my firm and perky
new remodeled boobs. They were very visibly displayed through my see-through white t-shirt. My brain quickly processed the looseness along my ribs, the lack of support on my tits, the friendliness of both the car wash workers and patrons.
"Oh!" I exclaimed.
I haven't worn a front clasping bra in about a million years. The clasp had come open and the "cups" of the bra were on the outer side of each breast. I had been walking around for hours, in essence, braless in a white see-through shirt.
I've since thrown out the spontaneous-unclasping bra.
On the other hand, my car hasn't been this clean since I bought it.
© Twenty Four At Heart