Even the jaws of life couldn't extract me from this bra. After running a few miles, I returned to my apartment to shower and change for an appointment with my doctor. Removing sweaty, tight clothing is a challenge for me--it just won't budge. If Marty's around, I have him extract me from the sticking item, usually a bra. But this was mid-day, I was running late and so did the only thing I could think of to save the day.I got the kitchen scissors and cut my way out.
If you look closely, I cut along a seam, thinking I might sew it one day. That'll be the day. I threw the damn thing in the trash, but it kept taunting me with its vivid color and mutilated strap. I decided to immortalize the offending bra here, reminding me that I am impatient, a slave to schedules, and quick to judge.
Bad girl. Bad bra. Bad to the bone.
1 comment:
Sad story. Looks like a nice one. I probably would have just kept it on and gone to the appointment all sweaty.
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