Crazy Boobs

Last night I went out with some friends in the city for a farewell party for a former co-worker who is moving to the wilds of Iowa today. Poor lass. In honor of the occasion I wore a new silk shirt that my mom bought me for my birthday.

As I discovered on the ride over, while it is a very nice silk shirt in a lovely burgandy shade, it is not so good with the "staying buttoned" or "covering the boobs adequately" parts of its shirt job. In fact, if I were a shirt employer, this shirt would be fired for incompetence. If this shirt were a student, it would need to be held back a grade.

I flatter myself by thinking I made the toll booth operator's night when I paid my $4 and offered him an unencumbered view of my bosom, thanks to my developmentally disabled shirt. When I arrived, I also greeted my friend Christina with a big hug and a big view of the girls.

Enough! I begged Christina for a needle and thread, whipped off the offending garment, and sewed the critically failing portion shut. I managed to get through the rest of the evening with at least a semblance of decency. I mean, really, if I'm going to be inappropriate and lewd, I'd like to be in control of the time and place!