parens binubus

more than you want to know about a law school graduate/bar examinee who is also raising two children and doing her best at being a partner to her love.

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  • Friday, July 14, 2006
    A very nice bra
    this morning, i was on the T, and a woman got on the train. She had on nice work pants and a white blouse. Much like the white blouse I was wearing. She seemed to be SCREAMING "I'm going on an interview." She looked nervous, uncomfortable, was constantly adjusting herself, her pants, her hair.

    The first thing I noticed about her was her pants. They were a super-cool red. Not bright flashy red, not the typical deep ox blood - just a good red. Then I noticed the huge amount of giant curls on her head.

    Then I noticed that her shirt was unbuttoned to the point of an excellent view of her bra. Her bra was just hanging out there. and of course, so was what was in them.

    I felt kind of bad for her. I mean, she was clearly not all that comfortable with what she had on already, and she seemed just so ... unsure of herself. It did occur to me for a moment that it was on purpose - people show their bras to the world sometimes. But it didn't match the rest of her outfit, her demeanor, or any non-rock-and-roll-concert-stage.

    But I didn't know how to tell this perfect stranger that her bra was visible to the world. I wondered if I should. what if she DID mean to have her shirt unbuttoned? I pictured the possible scenarios. If I said to her, "your shirt is unbuttoned" she could look down, say "oh SHIT! thanks!" or should could look at me and say "fuck you, bitch, i know that my shirt is fucking unbuttoned, i'm the one who fucking unbuttoned it! you mind your own goddamned fucking business, and go button your own fucking shirt."

    I decided I could live with both scenarios. that if the first thing happened, I could smile, and walk away feeling that i helped someone to not walk around the streets of downtown Boston with their boobs hanging out. If the second thing happened, I could shrug my shoulders, and walk away.

    On the escalator, she was behind me (while I was thinking all this through). I turned around, and I said, "I think your button came undone." She looked at me sooooo quizzically and said, "what?" I don't think she understood me. I don't think English was her first language. So I placed my hand on my OWN chest, and said "your shirt."

    She was utterly HORRIFIED. She looked at me as if **I** had just unbuttoned her shirt. She grasped at her chest, and RAN away. While I was in Starbucks, I saw her come out of an alcove, with at least 2 more buttons done up - but she still had the deer in the headlights look on her face.
    posted by Zuska @ 6:38 PM  
    • At Saturday, July 15, 2006 11:50:00 AM, Blogger She says said…

      Good for you for doing that. I've warned people that certain body parts are visible when I didn't think the owners of the parts intended to share... and usually the person is hugely embarrassed but even more grateful. I mean, I've always been grateful to strangers who politely told me I was flashing the world.

      And it makes you wonder about the gazillion others who don't bother to say anything. Didn't they notice? Or are they too busy to bother or afraid of strangers or completely without empathy? Who knows.

    • At Saturday, July 15, 2006 11:52:00 AM, Blogger E. McPan said…

      Hmm. What color was it? I hope she knew to wear a nude-colored one under a white shirt.

    • At Saturday, July 15, 2006 11:58:00 AM, Blogger Zuska said…

      god, i feel so stupid. yes, her bra was nude. mine? the one that was under my very similar white shirt? it was white.

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