I got felt up by a 90-year-old woman today. Yes, you read that right. Wait, I’ll get to that. Sasha and I made a 100-mile trek up to Carmichael, CA to go to my friend’s baby shower. I had to bribe her with a trip to Sonic. Incidentally, Sonic ruined our lives because we felt so guilty eating it, we couldn’t eat anything else the rest of the day. So, I’m lying in bed starving and Sasha decided to eat a can of tuna and go to sleep. I digress. As we sat there pondering whether to get the cheesy tots Sasha remembered being in high school and visiting a very old lady who was an expert bra fitter. She decided we had to go.
My experience with bra ladies has not been very positive. Sometimes they’re rough and try to wrangle your breasts like they hate them. Sometimes they do not know what they are doing and insult you by providing you with a bra that’s too big ‘round with cups that are far too small. Chicki Downs in not that bra lady. For one, she is 90 years old. She’s seen her fair share of breasts so I suppose nothing is surprising. And she’s spot on with her sizing. I’m getting ahead of myself again. I think Chicki will do that to you. She gave Sasha some directions to her pad. She told her to come after 6 p.m. because “that’s when the dining hall closes.” Oh. So we showed up and sure enough, it was a retirement community. A little old lady with a walker greeted us. She was a peach.
She took us to her room and showed us her dressing room and told Sasha to take off her shirt. She worked some wicked magic on Sasha because she was defying gravity when Chicki was done with her. “DO HER! FIT HER!” Sasha screamed. So before I knew what was what, I found myself half naked and being helped into a lacy beige bra by some quivery old hands. She told me to jump when I was done. I didn’t want to, but did. I have a hard time saying no to old people. She told me to do these special breast enhancement “exercises” (self breast massage) and so I suppose I will. She is, after all, old enough to know best. She also made me touch one of her breasts to see how firm they were. Once wasn’t enough so I had to do it again. It was slightly weird, to be honest. But she was right—they were awesome for a 90-year-old.
We’ve got to go back next week to pick up our super sweet and super pricey bras. But we have to be sure to be there after church but before the Valentine’s Day Ball. She’s got a hot date with a much younger man. I think he’s 70 and it’s slightly scandalous.
And now for more tales from the gym. My pop takes weekly steams/saunas at the craptastic 24-Hour Fitness nearby. A couple weeks ago a new freakshow hit that scene. A chubby middle-aged Chinese lady entered the sauna wearing an itty bitty bikini top and disturbingly small bottoms. Dark tufts of pubic hair peeked out the sides. To make matters worse she began a series of high kicks which revealed her insides. As in, I think I just saw her baby. All this while staring intently into everyone’s eyes. How creepy. When she finally left my dad overheard some guys talking about the last time she paid them a visit. She sort of danced around slowly handing out her business cards. Massage. First hour free! Good lord—and I thought I had weirdos at my gym. I just have guys who swig milk and passionately lip sync to R. Kelly while working the elliptical.