I’m thinking of starting an experimental new exercise program: The Sports Bra Allover Workout.
With the startling acumen that usually alerts me to uneaten pie crust on the plates of nearby diners, I noticed that I often bust buttons off of blouses in spontaneous bursts of rapid fire. The last time I took a deep breath at The Waffle House, the grill cook and three truckers at the counter hit the floor.
Therefore I instituted a rigorous physical training program. I plan to keep fit with a weekly trip to Wal-Mart to try on sports bras. Granted that this is a pastime fraught with danger, I’m going to approach my new exercise program with a certain degree of caution and respect for spandex.
Yesterday when I attempted my first fitting, I tried to pull the treacherous garment on over my head. Turns out I exercised not only myself, but two elderly saleswomen and a security guard who thought I was trying to rob the lingerie department when the wretched thing snapped smartly around my face like a Spandex ski mask leech and wouldn’t let go. My ears stuck through the armholes and I had to chew an air passage in the doubleknit to breathe.
Next time I’m going to Victoria’s Secret. I may still lose consciousness, but at least I'll go out in style.