I had been given the task of editing and updating our current training videos. For one in particular I needed someone from Intimates to help me review “The Perfect Fit,” a video about how to correctly measure a woman to determine her bra size (because 70-95% of all women wear the wrong size bra, apparently).

We watched the 9 minute video, each of us taking notes throughout the process. Afterwards, she turned to me.

“Well, it doesn’t even touch on pregnant women and nursing bras. And that’s an important part of our business. It can be very dangerous to give bad advice to pregnant women.”

I thought to myself. Hmm. Giving bad advice to a pregnant woman. Inconsiderate? Yes. Dangerous? Not seeing it.

She took my silence to be tacit agreement.

“For instance, if a pregnant woman is wearing the wrong size bra, she can get mastitis.”

I continued to look at her in silence, feeling a glaze forming on my eyes.

“Have you ever nursed?”

I felt myself starting to nod, but then vehemently shook my head.

“Well. I’ve nursed three babies and all three times got mastitis. Do you know how painful that is? Do you know what mastitis is? Your milk ducts get completely blocked, then swell up – they’re huge. And so painful. And it can happen even before you’re nursing. You just have to be pregnant and next thing you know – mastitis.” She said all of this while rubbing her breasts, to emphasize how painful this could be.

By now my glazed eyes have turned into a blank stare. This really is so much more than I ever wanted to know about someone I work with.

In case you’re not aware, there’s a very important election on November 2. Register now to vote.

Still not convinced? Here’s what Larry David has to say: “Well, it just so happens that right after I voted for the first time, I landed myself a big fat job in Hollywood, a biopsy came back benign and I met my future wife as soon as I walked out of the voting booth. Coincidence? You decide.”

She: So, do you travel often for work?

He: What do you consider often?

She: I don’t know. Five days a week?

He: Yeah. I travel often.

She: Great! So, do you want children?

He: Yeah. I want children.

She: Of course you do, you bastard. You wouldn’t be around to take care of them.

The sign blazed:

I went back for a second helping of rice. The cafeteria worker, a beautiful young Mexican woman with full lips and doe eyes generously piled rice on the small plate. “People here are a little bit crazy. They think rice makes you fat. In my country, every night we eat rice, beans and cheese. Every single night.”

I smiled and thanked her.

As I was leaving I heard her mutter, “Maybe that’s why I’m a little bit fat. Hmm.”

I noticed her, more because she looked out of place, completely overdressed for the local bar, than for any other reason. A long, black evening gown, sparkly silver clutch, long clawlike fingernails that were horribly unattractive, hair ironed and slicked back into a tight ponytail at the crown of her head. She sat down beside us at the bar, ordered a drink, paid cash, and checked out the local scene, detachedly observant.

Moments later, she bent over to get her things and left the bar, drink still half full. A few minutes later Tricia and I noticed our wallets were missing. Damn her. After a round of expletives, we walked out onto the sidewalk, seeing if she was still in the vicinity. No such luck.

We informed the bartender of what had happened. He offered his apologies, bought us a round of drinks, then commented, “I knew there was something suspicious about her. I mean, who orders Bacardi and pineapple juice? That in itself screams criminal activity…”

“Matters of Taste

The latest in tasteful eyewear

by David Shaw, LA Times

A German company has created frames with detachable arms you can use as chopsticks. But why? So I saw this story not long ago about a German company that sells eyeglasses with detachable frame-arms that can be used as chopsticks or forks…”

read more….

My first thought was – oooooo. Gross. Eating raw fish with something that’s been perched behind your ear all day. Yuck.

My second thought was – oooooooo. Putting on glasses that have been dipped in soy sauce and wasabi that have clasped raw fish. Yuck.

But I like where he went with useful combinations.

Watch/corkscrew. Not bad.

Tie clasp/Eucharist shell holder. Not so much.

What else????

How about poncho/waterproof tablecloth? Great for those days in the park where you need something to lay your picnic spread on… in a little precipitation.

Earring/clam shucker. Could be useful.

Ring/dental floss dispenser. You always need dental floss at the most inopportune moments. Swirl it up in a fancy shmancy bling bling ring. Problem solved.

Countless other opportunities…

My Hawaiian plate came with two scoops of rice and one scoop of macaroni salad. Yuck. I forgot to tell them to hold the macaroni salad. Mayonnaise has always disgusted me. What could be good about combining oil and eggs? I sat, reading, nibbling on my pulled pork and rice, avoiding the morsels that had come into contact with the evil macaroni salad. A tiny moth encircled my head, fluttering, floating, diving. Right. Into. The. Macaroni. Salad.

Oh no.

I looked around, wondering where it had flown off to. I looked up. I looked to my side. I didn’t see it in the air. I peered down.

Oh no.

Death by mayonnaise.

There it lay, motionless, drowned in the macaroni salad. Poor moth. Instead of feeling disgusted, I felt somewhat vindicated. I always knew mayonnaise was bad for you. And here was indisputable proof. You, too, could suffer death by mayonnaise. Don’t do it.

I was shocked when I saw the man in front of us cradling a newborn who couldn’t have been more than 2 weeks old. A few minutes later my companion expressed same disbelief. It wasn’t just a girl thing.

Later in the game, as foul balls were being hit our way, the man in front of us turned to his friends. “I’m going to make ESPN’s top ten. I’m going to catch a foul ball, bare-handed, while also holding a baby. That’s what I’m talking about.”

The two men he was with laughed. The woman half jokingly said, “If your wife sees you on tv trying to catch foul balls and not doing the duck and cover with the baby, you’re going to be on a list alright. And it ain’t going to be ESPN’s. That’s what I’m talking about.”

She opened the refrigerator, filled with beverages of all varieties: beer, water, teas, sodas. “What would you like?”

“I think I’ll have a beer.”

“Heineken, Beck’s, Pilsner, or, let’s see, New Cast Stile.”

???

I glanced at the familiar brown and gold label and laughed. “Could that be Newcastle?”