underwire adversity

For my birthday, one of my co-workers gave me a gift certificate to a nail salon. I decided to use it during my lunch break today for a pedicure, which my abnormally fleshy toes desperately needed. I was really looking forward to it, both for the aesthetically pleasing outcome and for the few minutes of relaxation to be experienced in the process. There was no wait, so I headed directly to the monstrous massaging pedicure chair, which had already been turned on for me. I love the massaging chairs; that is, when I can get the massage wheels in the right position so that they don’t turn into a groping & poking fest. I was sitting there, my head leaning restfully on the headrest, massage wheels in perfect position.

After just a few moments, something didn’t feel right. What is that uncomfortable feeling? My bra? It must be twisted. The dreadful thought came to me: the possibility that one of my removable straps came loose. No…that wasn’t it; both straps were securely in place. So I sat back to relax again. “Ok, something is definitely not right,” I thought. I reached back, and to my utter dismay, found that my bra had come unhooked! This perverted massage chair molested me & unhooked my bra! My first thought: I am impressed at the finger-like abilities of the massage wheels in this massive chair. My second thought: how in the world am I going to inconspicuously fasten my bra? My feet were already in the warm bubbling water of the pedicure spa, so I couldn’t get up & go to the restroom. Should I just leave it detached? Out of the question. I reached around to my back with both hands and attempted to hook the bra from outside my shirt. No such luck. How in the world am I going to accomplish this feat? I discreetly looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to me. Of course not – Guiding Light was on the TV, demanding the attention of all 4 customers in the salon. So I reached up the back of my shirt with both hands, pretending to have an itch in a very unfortunate spot, and tried to hook my bra. {Key word: tried.} Why is it that my bra came so easily unhooked by this blasted massage chair, and I, with my opposable thumbs and jointed fingers, cannot hook it back into place??? This is a catastrophe. I could NOT get the stupid thing hooked, and I had decided it was just going to have to remain that way until I got back to the office, where I could undress in the restroom and resolve this calamity.

After sitting back & resting a few minutes in order to get my frustration under control, I decided to attempt the impossible once more. I reached under my shirt with both hands, and, after several failed attempts, FINALLY got one of the two hooks latched. Hallelujah! Salvation had come. I no longer faced the humiliation of the walk of shame through the salon, bra dangling underneath my shirt, leaving the girls unsupported and begging for reinforcement. Thank you, Namaste-hands-behind-the-back yoga pose. Thank you.