8 of 10 women wear the wrong bra size

Let the dog out yesterday morning at about 5:30 and found that the pond had collapsed overnight. The huge boulder we thought immovable, moved. The heavy rains must have washed away the last of the dirt supporting it. Luckily there was still a foot or so of water left in the pond for the fish, but it did escalate the need to figure out where the fish live while the new pond was dug.

8 of 10 women wear the wrong bra size

I dug a grave sized hole in the garden, lined it with the old liner, filled with water and transplanted the fish. A lot of digging which didn't get us any closer to finishing the new pond.

8 of 10 women wear the wrong bra size

We then ran over to West Leb for the day's errands: recycling, banking, *marting, and then Faith had to shop for a bra. She's in an opera this fall and the costume department wants the ladies to have more lift for their period costumes. I wandered around Penney's and did a year's worth of shopping; short pants were on sale! That killed five minutes. The rest of the time I hung out in the bra section and tried hard not to look like an oddball. The way this is done is by reading catalogs, flyers, and all of the signs as if they are the most interesting thing you've ever encountered.

8 of 10 women wear the wrong bra size

That was when I read the sign that has been echoing through my head ever since. How could this be? 8 out of 10? Not half, not three quarters...eighty percent. Mighty convenient that it was posted amidst a bourgeoning bra department. There was some fine print, but the sign hung just inside the changing room and I didn't have the courage to go read it.

"Can I help you sir?"

"Oh, I'm just reading this sign.

"I think it would be better if you left the ladies dressing room."

"Yeah, but, is this true? 8 out of 10?"

"I wouldn't know. Please wait somewhere else."

"I just want to read the fine print. I mean, obviously, you folks sold bras to some of those eight percent and are partially to blame, right?"


[*beep*bleep*beep*.....>>ring, ring<<]
      "...yes, this is undergarments, could you send the manager over?"

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