Sunday, March 12, 2006

Clueless People

Yesterday I went to Target to buy a strapless bra for a shoot I'm doing Tuesday. I usually go to Victoria's Secret for all of my chest needs, but I wanted to do it on the cheap (and I don't think I'll wear this bra very often).

I pick through the racks and find the right size, but it's a necessity to try on bras before you buy them. So I trek over to the dressing rooms and get the tag for my one item then head back for the glorified closets to change. There's one open door but the lock is broken and the room has about eight empty hangers lying around. Obviously not a room that is currently intended for use. I walk down the corridor and test a doorknob, only to find the room is unlocked and someone is dressing inside. Great. I have one item and I can't try it on, and I probably made that women pee a little because she was so scared of being seen with a naked back.

So I go back out to the attendant and say that there are no rooms open and she says I should just wait. Now, no one is in the men's side, and I don't think they'd really mind if I tried on a bra if there were men over there. Andrew hollers to just try it on, so I peel off my hoodie and slide the bra under my tank top. All this time, no nipples or breast skin is showing. I have one cup on and the woman asks me what I'm doing. I say, "I'm trying on this bra under my tank top." She says, "You can't do that." I say, "Why? You can't see anything. I only have one item and all the rooms are full." Then a gal comes out from a dressing room and says, "Can I also try on these three items since the others don't fit?" Target lady says, "Yes." (Nevermind that I have one item to try on, not six plus.) Back to me. One boob in, one boob out. She says, "You can't do it out here."
Me: "Why? Nothing's showing, you know I'm trying it on, I'm not violating any laws."
Her: "But kids could . . ."
Me: "Kids could what? They can't see anything. Can you?"
Her: "Just step into the dressing [hallway on the women's side]."
Andrew: "Aren't there dressing rooms on the other side."
Her: "They're the men's. Please . . ."
Me: "I don't mind changing out here, unless it offends you."
Her: "I'm not offended. I'm thinking about you."
Me: "I don't mind."
Her: (flustered) "Please . . ."
Me: "You know, if it's such a problem I can shop somewhere else. It's really no problem. If you don't want my business I can go somewhere else. Really."

I peel off the bra and leave it with the hanger and tag on her counter while she pleads with me to stay and buy. Of course, she didn't want me to put my ta-tas in the bra in the wrong locations -- even if no one got a glance of my actual ta-tas. And she didn't have a solution for me to try on the bra. Andrew dropped the hand basket and we went to K-Mart.

I hate it when people get all uppity about the body. Trying on a bra is non-sexual, but she was acting as if I was showing my dinners for money from seedy onlookers. And I didn't even expose more than my belly button!

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