To reach the second level of a certain Boston department store, plucky adventurers must chart a course through the enchanted bra forest. Compared to that dense but narrow undergrowth of men's undergarments, the enchanted bra forest seems an immense acreage of endlessly diverse eco-system including tiny bonsai, elegant spruce, fragrant pine, mighty oak and, alas, weeping willow.
I kept thinking that I was going to trip over Sleeping Beauty laid out in the aisles, or that John Keats' La Belle Dame Sans Merci would have me "in her thrall" before I managed to get to the escalator:
What can ail thee knight at arms, alone and palely loitering?
Oh I'm just looking for men's summer trousers
Well they're on level two and this is ladies' intimate apparel.
Yes, but this is the shortest way to the escalators.
Mind you, having witnessed the size of some of the sports bras on offer, perhaps paraphrasing his Ode on a Grecian Urn might have been more appropriate.
Oh I'm just looking for men's summer trousers
Well they're on level two and this is ladies' intimate apparel.
Yes, but this is the shortest way to the escalators.
Mind you, having witnessed the size of some of the sports bras on offer, perhaps paraphrasing his Ode on a Grecian Urn might have been more appropriate.
Just be thankful you don't have flabby pecs. A guy with poorly defined chest muscles can be subjected to the ultimate humiliation in such an environment - the sales clerk thinks he's shopping for himself!
Posted by: non de guerre | June 17, 2008 at 21:19