If you find one that fits, then why change?

For all the small-talk person that I am, it is not with any sales person that I joke around.  I am a quiet customer if I don't smell the chit-chat in the air.  It is like how even my faculty colleagues do not have an idea, I am sure, of the joke- and pun-loving character that I am.  I suppose we are all, in our own ways, the living, breathing versions of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  Which is ok, as long as the hidden personality is not sociopathic, and mine is not. Not yet ;)

After a long time, I went to Target.  In my mind, I still pronounce it as "tarjay" to make my shopping experience that much more a fancy adventure at a marché.  Even though, I go there only to pick up some mundane necessities.  

Try it yourself--put on a French accent for the chores you hate to complete and before you know it, you will be whistling French tunes with the "dishays" washed and "zee clothes" clean.  Even a dull boring McDonald's hamburger can turn out to be fun ;)

I was a no nonsense shopper at Tarjay, and reached the checkout counter in no time.  If only I were that efficient with the work that I have to do to earn my living!  Maybe I take my own sweet little time with work because I enjoy it?

The woman ahead of me in the line did not place anything in the belt.  I wondered whether she was waiting in line only to pick up something like a gift card.

And then she produced them. Two bras, which she handed to the clerk.

Ooooh la la, right there, my mind went through a whole bunch of possible jokes about those bras.  I had a tough time making sure that I would not burst out laughing at my own jokes.  I might be my worst critic about a lot of things that I do, but never about my jokes.  Heck, if I can't laugh at my own jokes, it simply ain't worth livin'.

The customer was a slightly large built woman, perhaps five years older than me.  She and the sales clerk started talking about bras and fit.

Not what I would think of as small talk!

It felt strange standing in line at the checkout counter waiting for my turn as they talked about finding the right bra.  And I thought the eternal quest that women were in was to find Mr. Right!

"It is so difficult to find that right bra that fits well" the customer said.

"Yeah, isn't that the case!" The clerk continued, "the moment I find one that fits perfectly, I stop looking and buy up."

"If you find one that fits, then why change, right?  But then all of a sudden they suddenly tweak something and the same bra model doesn't fit anymore" the customer lamented.

In my mind, I was thinking that, rationally, it is more probable that the bra fit changes because, well, the female body changes with time.  For one, there is no escaping gravity.  

As tempting as it was to interject, I wisely stayed silent.  Wisdom lingers every once in a while.

Life as a male is way simpler, easier.  We eat, we scratch, we get going even with ill-fitting underwear and joke that going commando will be even easier.

It was now my turn.  

"Hellooooo!" she said.

I smiled. 

I paid. 

I walked away.

Small talk another day.